Dangerous Criminal Love
by Kiri Asakura
Summary: Two murdererers criminals potentially dangerous are brought together by fate. Their dark twisted impulses will be what will attract each other, something that they couldn't nor would want to avoid it. Dolarhyde/Dixon. Also Hannigram in futures chapters ;)
1. Alpha Omega: Dangerous Fate

Okay this is a fic inspired by this crossover of the Richartin couple formed by Francis Dolarhyde and Hector Dixon. A couple of murderer dangerous villains.  
The story purports to be sexiest and very intense ;)  
I hope you enjoy even a little. By the way the story is interwoven plot between the original Red Dragon by Thomas Harris, the Hannibal series adapted by Bryan Fuller and the film Wild Target.

Warning: Contains graphic violence, sadism and issues that can be a bit sensitive for some people.

Chapter Management

 _ **Chapter 1**_ _ **: Alpha / Omega: Dangerous Fate**_

… **.**

Dixon was in London resting on one of his luxurious penthouses that served as a hideout, located in a prestigious area of London. A few weeks ago that had just acquired that new site trying to confuse his enemies. The afternoon was beginning to fall and he decided to spend some time relaxing watching TV in the most ordinary way, at that point he just wanted to have a little of mundane things, ordinary peace as anyone. The evening began to fall and soon thought his life was falling into monotony. He suddenly felt empty, almost as empty as the cup he held in his hands which had now entirely finished drinking its content. He rose from his place to go to pour another cup with gin and saw through the large window the faintly pink sky by dawn. It began to show some stars that overshadowed the artificial light of the city buildings. He sipped his drink while he continued seeing as the nightlife were accentuated by the brightness of the cars crossing the traffic and then he returned to his living room to sit in his new and comfortable large sofa. The house was greatly flamboyant and decorated with modern minimalist touches, glimmers of long lamps lit the room. Suddenly to see one of the pictures on the wall he thought an idea that certainly seemed ridiculous, maybe he was too lonely and perhaps he needed to have someone at his side with whom to share his life and the complicity of his criminal identity, perhaps what he needed was to feel more passion. Although he did not want to become obsessed with the idea because it kept seem corny, he could get sex from anyone whenever he wanted and wherever he wanted anyway. It had always been so. He could call right then to a house dating or just go to a nightclub and flirt to who called his attention to take to his bed. He could pay for sex tonight or nights that he wanted. Dixon was an addicted of sex, his sexual appetite rarely decreased. His libido was always in peak. The money did not matter, he had too much to waste it if he wished, thanks to his criminal services contract he had enriched with a vast fortune.

It certainly was that Dixon had sustained an affair for months with the spy Peter Guillam, but a few weeks ago that they had decided to sever the relationship. It had been weeks since the last time Dixon had seen Peter after an argument in which both brought out the concerns that had led them to make that decision to separate. And it was much longer than Dixon had not had sex with anyone, despite his relentless hypersexuality, the latter had been Guillam. He had restricted to himself the desire to be with another man just due Guillam, because he loved him and because he had decided to try to change. But Guillam had not come all this time and it seemed he did not want to do it. Dixon had started to be so greatly exasperated, and did not take it anymore, it was as if everything Guillam had managed to make him feel it was slowly going to hell and thus also his determination to maintain his loyalty. His great libido could not longer limited by waiting for someone, not even waiting for Guillam. Since that discussion they had not had any further contact.

Dolarhyde was at the airport in Boston. He was fleeing from FBI after the confrontation with Will Graham which had occurred a few days ago in which he had been forced to say goodbye to Reba in so abruptly and unexpectedly way, the sweet blind woman with whom he had maintained a relationship in recent weeks, the woman who had taught him to love and which had controlled the evil of his psyche. Those were the latest most wonderful weeks of all his life.

After the fire that he had caused after to assassinate Reba's ex-lover to mislead the police, he had managed to escape the track of Graham and the law until the day that he wounded Graham and they found out he was still alive, it was all a trap and it was becoming mostly dangerous than it was from the first moment he decided to choose to become a brutal serial murderer. Now he had to take care of Crawford and the rest of their FBI agents were following all leads. The experts had even found sufficient evidence of his DNA because they had raided his another house under the command of the police.

But even despite all that disadvantage and with the full danger of being discovered and arrested at any time, Dolarhyde seemed not be afraid that the police were hot on his trail. Now he had an advantage that would not stop echoing in his thoughts, an archetypal advantage to which only he could give a meaning and a reason for all logic. Now he had the power of the dragon himself. _The Great Red Dragon_ was inside him, his soul and his had merged into an eminent conjunction.

Sitting in his new living room Dolarhyde recalled that day when after crossing Central Park arrived at the Brooklyn Museum, as planned. That Tuesday afternoon that he had been savvy enough to sneak security guards and trick them to grant them for they allowed him access to the museum on a day that were only allowed entry to researchers and students from university. With a disguise he fooled the police and being in front of the majestic watercolor by William Blake was when he committed his sadistic crime. It was after he finally admired the original watercolor of Blake, the same which had fascinated him so much all along, when he incurred that cruel crime viciously, killing the guides responsible to show him _the Great Red Dragon and the woman clothed in Sun_. Like a madman who had lost all sanity and the sense of himself he devoured the _Red Dragon_ , until the latter part of the paper had reached his stomach, he was more powerful than the _Red Dragon_ , with that he showed it. He had defeated him and his dark mandates in his mind urging him to kill.

It had always been the fault of the _Red Dragon_. The nefarious demon of the watercolor and pastel had ordered him to commit all these crimes and Dolarhyde had to find a way to stop it, to cease it, to overcome him. Now the dragon could not return anymore, never could order him anymore. _The Great Red Dragon_ had not been able to overcome his cunning and intelligence, he was superior to the _Red Dragon_ and no longer would take over his mind and his dark impulses, he could at last find control it and not murder again anyone else, he could perhaps live from now a normal life loving someone, loving Reba, forming a home of their own and inhospitable inferior complex that had arisen in him since the tender age of childhood, an inhospitable inferior complex that had arisen from the moment he was born, which had arisen from the moment his parents rejected him, since his mother left him at the orphanage deliberately because of that damn malformation on his face that he was not to blame and since his grandmother had taken him to teach her own 'good manners' in the hypocritical hostility of her retrograde home for after his death he would be adopted by his own biological mother, the same cold woman who had left him to his fate at the orphanage several years ago. Greatly Dolarhyde hated remember all that, anyway it was about a deep past who wanted to make the total oblivion especially now that he had devoured the _Great Red Dragon_.

No, he could not go back to Reba. He had the Dragon with him. The Dragon, representing pure evil and he had gave him absolute power. If he returned at side of Reba again perhaps might not be fully capable to control his murderer instincts and his bloodlust. Now he and the _Red Dragon_ were one. He could not stop being a fucking murderer.

Dolarhyde felt quite powerful, his transformation into _the Red Dragon_ had culminated in the mere act of devouring it. It certainly was that because it was no longer necessary to kill anyone to become the _Red Dragon_ , he already had done, but that did not stop his excitement thinking about killing someone else, to return to enjoy the supplications and agony of a person dying in his hands cruelly, to see their blood running, to witness their last gasp of horror and despair and the sink his teeth into the victims after raping them and also introducing them sadistically mirrors into the eyes.

But now the dragon was asleep. Dolarhyde came to the airport from Chicago; it was a short but tiring trip. It tired him more due he was fleeing from the law. But he was very good at hiding his face through a good disguise. In addition, he had managed to get misrepresent his identity and transfer all his bank accounts. Now he was in Boston, Dolarhyde looked very handsome and distinguished as usually liked to wear. He wore a black leather jacket, checkered cotton shirt and blue jeans. With his serene and cordial behavior anyone could thought he was a normal person. He paused a moment to think that the greatness of the _Red Dragon_ had come with him to Boston. At that time he thought about how he should continue with his life thus escaping from the justice, beginning a new life, hiding his true identity. His fake IDs now appointed him the name of John Bateman. Also he had to find a new place to live. He had enough money to stay in that place anyway.

From the other side of the world, in Europe, Hector Dixon had awakened from his sleep in the morning, dawning on the big bed in his luxurious room. Beside him also had dawned a burly alpha man. Dixon had hired him to have sex with him overnight. It was something that frequently he requested, before meeting and get involved with Guillam. The man had been certainly very good lover and had given him a wonderful night full of lust, of unbridled sex, of wet sheets. The ray of morning sunshine was entering through the small opening among the long curtains. Dixon got up from his bed and walked still naked towards the drawer without turning to see back. He took from a drawer a checkbook and made a good payment to the male prostitute, while the rentboy finished dressing his pants. After signing the check and smiling maliciously with his impeccable white teeth Dixon said bye to him with the same coldness with which had contacted him the last night. Maybe if his carnal desires demanded it, he would think about re-hiring him another night.

After showering and take his breakfast, Dixon finished enlisting to go to the new call that they had done to him. A senior government official had called him that morning to hire him to kill a trafficker of methamphetamine and cocaine that had threatened to report him on his corrupt acts. In addition, the dealer was also a major public figure who worked in the British government that it was protected by other persons of high rank. But things had tightened and the politician who was willing to hire the services of Dixon was tired of the situation so he decided to cut pit in that dirty way, by a premeditated murder. No doubt it was a settling of accounts, something to which Dixon was already fully used. He will receive a very good pay for the 'work' and probably it will not take too long and would be easy. The powerful man of the government would give all the necessary information to Dixon that he needed to work discreetly and quickly. Dixon was still the second best murderer hired within that mafia, surpassed only by some insignificance by Victor Maynard. Remember that asshole who was still overcoming him infuriated Dixon. But someday he could kill Victor, it was the greater purpose that Dixon was proposing to himself at the time.

Dixon contacted immediately with his followers and his main accomplice Fabian undertook to bring him in a luxury car. Dixon had several luxurious and armored cars, had paid plenty for them but he never dared to drive himself. He could order someone else do it for him, though in truth he was ashamed to say that he just did not want to drive because he was very insecure with himself to do it. Affirming that would be pathetic case of a dangerous and sadist hired murderer like him.

Dixon and Fabian arrived at the building where the powerful corrupt politician had been summoned. With total discretion they arrived at the reception and went up the elevator to a considerably high floor. When they descended from the elevator Dixon knew it was the 10th floor and entered into the large office indicated. When they entered there was a burly man waiting for them wearing an elegant black suit and fine tie sitting in a large reclining sofa lined in black vinyl. The man held a large cup of brandy and then he invited to Dixon to take a seat across from him. Then he ordered to one of his assistants to serve some of the same brandy to Dixon and Fabian and after the politician indicated to Dixon what he wanted and how and where they would do the murder.

After a juicy imminent negotiation and mutual agreement, there was a handshake to seal the deal. Dixon smiled with his languid white smile in a sign of malice.

"that idiot have to be within a coffin at this weekend, understand?" said the politician. Dixon mischievously smiled again and gave a brief sigh.

"you should not doubt it. And I assure you it will be a clean job" said the blond and again outlining his big smile.

Dolarhyde got a good apartment to live from now on this new secret life. With full confidentiality and discretion he was gradually settling down in his new home. Neighbors had saw him and they thought he was a nice man, but inevitably they found it was strange the fact he was too serious and reserved. At that time the face of Dolarhyde was captured in leaflets glued on the walls of police stations but not in local places yet.

Meanwhile in London, Dixon descended from his luxurious armored vehicle accompanied by Fabian and they climbed to the roof of a building of modest apartments. When they were above, pointed their weapons equipped with telescopic sights directed towards their goal who would be presented right in front of them, in a government building that was in front of the building where Dixon and Fabian lurking waiting for his victim. It was not long until the luxury vehicle of the political trafficker stopped in front of the building and the politician descended from the car. Dixon and Fabian had it all figured out, but by an unexpected twist of fate, the politician turned just at the moment when the bullet shot out of the gun, projecting into the wall. The politician was totally unscathed from that and indeed nobody was injured but such an act immediately indicated the possible location of Dixon and Fabian so they decided to flee as soon as possible before the police officer guarding could see them and the catch them.

Dixon cursed the folly of the bullet and cursed as well that the politician was so greatly protected, it was something that the man who had hired him had not informed him. He could not blame Fabian for what happened, it just had been unlucky. But soon they were able to enter their armored car and run away without leaving a clue.

"Are you sure they did not see you?" annoyed asked the man who had assigned them the mission. The man carried a cigar in his mouth.

"we are experts to flee from cops and the law, sir" said Dixon with integrity.

"Well, I'll give you another chance, the type will flee to the United States. The attack that had today of part of you two had created a scandal and the police are investigating it now, but I'm quite sure that long before they finding you, they will discover all the horde of crimes that has the type under his belt, crimes of all kinds, from money laundering and drug trafficking and great and significant frauds within parliament. Before proceeding with the investigation of the attempted attack of today the coward will flee to America and you will follow the track. Here are all the details. My private detective that I hired just gave me all this information and now I give it to you" the frowning man said sourly as he tossed in front of them a big envelope on the desk. Then he give a puff on his cigar.

Dixon smiled and picked up it from the desk. He opened it cautiously and noticed that besides notes and documents inside were some photographs.

Then the mighty man finished to give them further guidance. In a couple of hours Dixon was already flying to the United States on a private jet super luxury which the powerful man had assigned to him. Fabian would not go with him, but instead would accompany him the private detective who would help him to locate the man in question and so Dixon could kill him in the right time.

After several grueling hours of flight, Dixon arrived at the airport in New York to do later stopover towards Boston. The man who he had been sent to murder still would not arrive until several hours later than Dixon so he could be installed properly and prepare everything to do a little visit just when the corrupt politician arrived.

Dixon was sitting in his large hotel suite preparing his favorite weapon with which would perpetrate the murder. It was a beautiful Beretta 92 and Dixon was now subtly wiping it with a cloth. Thinking that was about to come the moment to use it and shooting his victim, it excited him increasingly. Mastering firearms always excited him, thinking about blood and death of their victims excited him even more. After cleaning carefully it he placed the gun silencer.

The private detective would indicate him at what point would arrive the politician inside the hotel, the same hotel where Dixon was staying, in fact only some rooms separated them.

When at last the detective gave the indication, Dixon quietly and discreetly left his suite. It was very late at night, perhaps 2:00 am and for that reason was no one could to see him. Would also have to go through the blind spot of the security cameras, the detective had told him how. Arriving in front of the suite Dixon knocked on the door and when the political man opened with totally coolly Dixon gave him three quick shots at close range, without even giving him time to wonder who the hell had dared to knock on his door at that hour of the night. The miserable man died instantly and no one would notice it until midday the next day when one of the chambermaid were to clean the room.

Dixon closed the door of the suite, leaving the lifeless body lying on the carpeted floor. Dixon then went to his room as normal and told the detective that the work had been completed successfully. The poor vile and corrupt politician could not commit frauds anymore and Dixon will receive the rest of his ostentatious pay on his return to London.

He took a relaxing bath in the tub and then went to bed to get some sleep. He thought it was a shame to have to leave so good suite in early morning.

Dolarhyde had not read newspapers for a long with the same avidity with which he had always done regularly, so he had been missing for quite news in recent weeks since he had been fleeing from justice and more properly from the police had discovered his true face and identity. He longed to know what had caused such a stir the _Red Dragon_ since his confrontation against Graham and if even the news of the slaughter was in a front page news. He was dying of longing to know how much the press had been writing about him, if they had been given all the hype that could have then triggered the fact that he ate the work of William Blake, that he ate _the Great Red Dragon and the Woman clothed in Sun_. His twisted mind of psychopathic made him have the slightest remorse for the victims who he had killed, in fact just the only important thing to him was the view of the press for having eaten the _Red Dragon_.

Dolarhyde went to the large main newspaper library the Boston Herald. From the moment he faced the place felt a noticeable excitement squeezing his pants. He climbed the stairs and after presenting his identification (false) he entered the place, very excited. Upon entering the building he was amazed by the large structures of the building, it amazed him the form all that was made and the many shelves full of piles of newspapers, as well he noticed marveled how were had there very old journals digitized form available to everyone. For a moment he was curious to check out the old stuff, of being in a remote past of criminal minds but then he thought it would be best first serve his real purpose, take a look at the most recent dailies, the newspapers that spoke of the crimes perpetuated by _the Great Red Dragon_.

He requested some copies of the News York Times, the Chicago-Sun Times, The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, but above all of The Tattler all of them dated for a month before and while he waited for who attended him Dolarhyde suddenly noticed on the desk of the reception it had a diary of that day. It called too much his attention to notice the note on the front page _"important British politician was brutally murdered in his suite this morning in Boston"_ The photo showed part of the scene where the grotesque was discarded and it only showed bare feet, although bloody, of the deceased.

At that time the manager came over to provide backward newspapers that Dolarhyde had requested taking him a bit by surprise while he kept looking over the issue with the news of the day.

"Excuse me, if you don't mind, could I take this daily for a while too?" Dolarhyde asked. The woman smiled at him cordially and nodded.

Dolarhyde took the papers including the new daily and sat at one of the desks assigned to users to read in comfort. Before reviewing the rest of the backward newpapers he decided to start by reading the news of the day what informed about the cruelly murdered British politician. After all any type of murder always excited him greatly, and the more viciously had been perpetuated was better for him. He read the first column that revealed the most relevant data, the politician had been caught in his own luxurious presidential suite and according to the experts it had occurred in the early hours of the morning. There were no witnesses but had stated that they suspected a settling of accounts because they found out cocaine in his possession inside his room and in addition a recent report came from the UK had asked for his capture. But that was a banal thing for Dolarhyde, he enjoyed greatly was learned that violent death was caused by three shots at close range, one of which had shattered his skull reducing it to a crushing and bloody mess scattered all over the floor. If Dolarhyde could see how all the blood and brain matter had splashed the nearest furniture certainly it had reawakened quite dark instincts murderers in him.

Greatly he felt more excited as he read the entire article, for some strange reason that he himself could not understand he felt much admiration for the unknown murderer. There were not clues, told the newspaper article, any witnesses, no suspects and clearly was an isolated incident. He read again and again the story from start to finish and quietly admired the photos that there were showed until after a while he came out of his reverie and began to read the other newspapers that really concerned him.

He went straight to read _the Tattler_ and found out that indeed the press had been talking about him and his fugitive status but of late had minimized some of the information. In a few of the articles he noticed that they had done a psychological profile on him contemplating his deranged behavior originated by his own sexual frustration probably due to his childhood, they had delving into this under any research or maybe just they inferred it but either form it was something that greatly annoyed to Dolarhyde, what the hell could they know? He decided once what had been waiting in a dormant corner of his psyche, the fact that _the Red Dragon_ had to return, he should give them a good lesson, he should show them who was the most powerful, he must show them that now that he and _the Red Dragon_ were one self, his powers were invincible. Even he could to overcome Hannibal Lecter this time.

At that moment he remembered Dr. Hannibal Lecter and the admiration that he had for him from the moment he read that he was the author of terrible murders that had finished implying especially cannibalism, recalled how much he had admired him from the moment he knew the brutality with which Dr. Lecter was characterized by murder his victims and then turned them into a crude masterpiece of his morbid self-satisfaction, but in the eyes of everyone it was more than disgusting naming each of Hannibal's murders and his modus operandi as a work of art, but for a psychopath with twisted dark mind as Dolarhyde it was just that, art, artwork as admirable as Blake's or Rembrandt's art, as influenced as the art of Monet's and Caravaggio's.

He thought there were not stopped to think about Dr. Lecter for some time even though Lecter had provided him the location of Will Graham. Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the cannibalistic psychiatrist, psycho mastermind. Certainly one day he had to meet him in person. Dolarhyde hoped that it could happen soon, had to be in front of him to speak about his admiration and let him know that he now had the absolute power of the red dragon.

He spent a long time reading the newspapers, carefully focused of course on each of the notes that talked about him, about the red dragon, on the above crudely known as _Tooth Fairy_ , that ridiculously pejorative way which the sensational stupid press had named him in principle until the time that he had murdered Freddie Lounds showing then the absolute mastery of the red dragon.

Time was spent reading and inadvertently night surprised him, in less than half an hour the place would close its doors and activities and so he decided to give back the newspapers that had borrowed. He went to the reception at a normal pace with newspapers stacked up in his hands and was just reaching the reception desk he spotted a short man reading with great interest other specimen of the same daily of that day, that daily that dictated in front page the assassination of corrupt British politician and merchant of drugs that had happened in that same city of Boston that morning. Dolarhyde approached with the intention of leaving the newspapers on the counter but did not take his eyes off of that individual who continued to read again and again the headline of the newspaper but more than that read with interest Dolarhyde could see in a moment that the man smirked mockingly. That same man was Dixon, the hired murderer sent to do such dirty mission to end the life of the British politician.

"I come to return these journals, thank you very much for your permission" Dolarhyde said to the manager. Hearing his voice, the blond man who was reading the newspaper looked up at him. Dixon was somewhat shocked and now his attention on the daily was lost, was now focused on looking at the profile of Dolarhyde. It was not at all a familiar face to him, it was not even a face that he had imagined before, but he was a man who was too much attracted and immediately Dixon could not help feel excitement for it. He smirked to himself, but still looking at Dolarhyde. But meanwhile Dolarhyde was busy end to return the newspapers to the person responsible. Dixon then licked his lips, in the brief time he had spotted Dolarhyde through his mind were bursting a lot of sinful desires.

The man was his kind, Dolarhyde was his type, the type of man who he liked to be in his bed, he was considerably tall and Herculean, of serious demeanor and alpha bearing. Dixon did not missing the opportunity to approach him to be closer of him and try to persuade him to be more alone and certainly then offer a good pay to have sex together in a hotel. Dixon licked lips again to hear one more the cavernous voice of alpha male of Dolarhyde. Stealthily he approached more to him and then Dolarhyde turned to see him after finishing to return the newpappers. None of them could have imagined at that time that both were murderers, both with potentially dangerous methods, none of them could have imagined that each other shared a taste for blood cruelly shed by innocents victims and in one way or another both had twisted feelings. It would not take long for both realized it.

Dolarhyde looked into his eyes, he knew that had not seen eyes like those, beautiful gray eyes with such a deep and intimidating gaze like his and at the same time Dixon knew for first time so close the bluish look of Dolarhyde, was a serene gaze but he totally caused him a lot of desires, a look of an alpha, a marvelous gaze hiding deep many dangerous secrets. Dolarhyde would be to him, they would be having sex in the width of his bed that night. Dixon had total egomaniac will to make anyone he liked finished on his bed fucking him, for being part of his sex play and his innermost fantasies. He was very arrogant on that. He moved closer to Dolarhyde still looking at him seductively in close proximity to invade his personal space placing a gloved hand very gently and fleetingly on his chest, over his shirt that was not even unbuttoned but that already Dixon was imagining undressing. Dolarhyde was a little hesitant, contrary to Dixon, he had not even considered having sex with him but in his unconscious Dixon also attracted him, for his total surprise. And that blond hair was almost drive him crazy, he wanted to touch it for a moment and then Dolarhyde hesitantly raised one of his hands almost with the intention to do so but he stopped.

Dixon caught that little intention of his part and that he liked. Dolarhyde fidgeted a bit and became more serious but instead Dixon smiled at him broadly again, showing his white and perfect smile. At that time Dolarhyde was stunned to himself, Dixon's smile seemed perfect, sublime, that completely captivated him. Anyway he always had the strange fetish for teeth, he was the _Tooth Fairy_ , was the _Red Dragon_ , dentures were something that he could not help feeling admiration.

"hello" Dixon mumbled finally breaking the tense silence.

"hello" Dolarhyde said with deep voice softened and finally left a little of his absorption and smiled too. At that time Dixon realized the small scar that Dolarhyde had on his superior lip, but it did not detract in any way gallantry "Can I help you with something?" He asked. Dixon smiled.

"Yes, actually I am a foreigner and I don't know much about this place and well I don't know the city in particular" said Dixon.

"I see, I could see in you an European feel... plus I also noticed you were reading the newspaper that came out this morning" Dolarhyde expressed.

"Yes, indeed...then you help me or not?" Dixon said coquettishly laughable, he could not stop looking at it and did not want to.

"I can do it but I think that will have to be tomorrow because today as you see they are about to close the place" Dolarhyde said a little dryly.

"okay, well but anyway you can still show me a little of the town, right?" Dixon said doing some emphasis in his British accent.

"I have no problem, well I like the British people in fact" Dolarhyde said almost whispering. Dixon was excited for that.

"oh you guessed I'm British!" Dixon said feigning surprise.

"now I understand why you were so interested in reading that article of the front page"

"Yes, I have been appalled for that terrible news. It is not very good to find out that type of news when I'm away from my country...you know?" Dixon said with false concern "but hey, I like guys like you, so let's out" he returned to outline a wide grin. Each took their belongings, Dixon took his elegant portfolios and Dolarhyde a small carry-on bag, and then they left the place together.

Being out there, the night was already dark and in front of them shone the night lights of the city from hight buildings and numerous cars transiting.

"We could go to a cafe... or perhaps you prefer a drink?" Dixon boldly suggested. Dolarhyde smiled at him.

"I like the idea of drink, I could use" Dolarhyde said while still smiled.

"me too. Do you suggest somewhere? Oh yeah…it's true! your mission now is to show me this busy city, or not?" Dixon said provocative.

"Well the truth is that I'm not a native of this place, in fact I just recently come to settle here some weeks ago" confessed Dolarhyde, a little shy.

"oh so interesting, I see, that really sounds more interesting. We could then explore the city together... but why do not we now I invite you to take that drink in my suite? The hotel where I'm staying is not far from here. What do you say?" said Dixon condescending.

Dolarhyde felt much more intrigued and excited to know more about the mysterious blond, his excitement was increasing gradually but he could not understand why. But he was enjoying this mysterious game of questions asked that they were having to start to know more about each other.

"Oh, so a suite..." Dolarhyde said softly but even in that tone Dixon thought he sounds even more masculine, fully alpha, felt a strange thrill through his body to just listening him. Soon he would have him on his bed, he still thinking.

"My suite is quite spacious and I can to order to bring us a good bottle of wine, vodka, gin, what you want" Dixon said suggestively in his sexy voice.

"That means you're a rich guy" muttered Dolarhyde.

"More than that, I'm powerful... but hey, I think we have been too suggesting a good night together but we have not even known our names. What is your name?" asked the blond.

"Ah, you're right, I was thinking exactly the same thing. Well, my name is... John Bateman" Francis said hesitantly, he could not reveal his real name nor in joke. Dixon was a complete stranger to him.

"oh... is a great name, I like it" Dixon said sincerely, he not distrusted of Dolarhyde nor a moment.

"And what is yours?" he asked curiously.

"Hector Dixon, that's my name" he replied, smirked.

"I also like it" Dolarhyde smiled at him, Dixon saw in that smile a lot of seduction.

After finishing introduced each other, Dixon ordered by a taxi to take them both to the luxurious hotel where Dixon was staying, which was not the same where the previous night he had committed the murder. They went up the elevator to the large suite of Dixon and being inside there Dixon ordered to the service to the room for they carried to them a couple of bottles of gin. All the way both were curiously inquiring many questions to know more about each other. It looked like if actually were having a great mutual attraction, though still none of them had even dared to give evidence on their real duties, on that dark and sadistic criminal life that they had decided to take.

Dolarhyde was also looking at the spacious and luxurious suite of Dixon, all that luxury was available to him, that's when Dolarhyde dared to ask if Dixon was a married or unmarried man. Dixon, who was serving at the time a couple of drinks with gin for both smiled at him mischievously laughable.

"No, I'm a man all alone, I'm available..." he smiled with his big white smile. That smile, immaculate, perfect, incited to Dolarhyde greatly, that perfect smile that gradually caused him the momentum to have it, to do something with the teeth, his mind inevitably began to plot some twisted ideas dimly projected in his unconsciousness.

Dark and strange impulses. He never before had felt this mixture of excitement because he also realized that were not only murderers instincts that were sprouting, it was something else. Perhaps the attraction that caused him was because of that Dixon was also a murderer like him, someone who did not see the minimum value of the lives of others. But that Dolarhyde still did not know.

Dixon extended one of the cups to giving it to Dolarhyde, or rather John Bateman. Dixon kept thinking how good it sounded his name, a masculine name that was perfect. He smiled again and when Dolarhyde reaching the cup what Dixon was giving to him, both could feel a subtle and light touch of their hands. Both were immersed in coquetry, in the sexual courtship, although Dolarhyde did not admit it.

"I hope you like this drink" Dixon mumbled and sat beside him.

"So you're a free man" muttered Dolarhyde "I wonder why someone like you can be alone... that is..."

At that time Dixon interrupted him with derisive laughter.

"And what about you? A guy like you should have family" Dixon sipped his drink, without taking his eyes off of who would be his new sexual victim of the night, Dolarhyde.

"No, actually I don't have anyone in this world..." Dolarhyde also drank from his cup and shrugged his shoulders a little. He did not want to remember his family.

They did not delved more on that topic but both were talking for a long time more about many other things, consuming cup after cup until the talk was even more enlivened giving way to some satirical jokes. The more time passed and the alcohol entered more and more in his bloodstream, Dixon felt much more attracted by Dolarhyde. His mind kept fantasizing about fiddling and each of his muscles, that were outstanding even under that shirt he wore, no doubt Dolarhyde's figure denoted the perfect athletic body that he had. Definitely he was the type of alpha that Dixon most wanted to take to his bed. While talking to him Dixon could not stop imagining being taken by him with all lust.

He decided it was time to speed things up even more than it already had proposed. And Dolarhyde had also consumed some alcohol so it would be much easier to propose it at that time, Dixon had to declare to Dolarhyde what was his true purpose of having taken him into his suite and instead offer to him a good pay for it.

Moreover, although Dixon was not completely sure, Dolarhyde also was feeling increasingly attracted by him.

"Well, John..." said Dixon appointing him for his false name "you know? I have had a wonderful night, very pleasant with you tonight but I don't want keep retarding more this, so I'll tell you what's my real purpose of bringing you tonight to my suite" he muttered with sensuality as then approached more to Dolarhyde. Dixon suddenly landed one of his hands over his groin threatening to touch beyond. Dolarhyde smiled maliciously in surprise, he could not deny that the audacity of Dixon liked him much, or maybe it was because of alcohol.

"tell me..." Dolarhyde muttered in his low, deep male voice. Dixon felt terribly excited to hear him with that sensual voice.

"You know we could pass a lot better than what we've been doing all night?" Dixon said boldly. Dolarhyde smiled again, though he had not yet grasped the message so well despite the attraction he was feeling because he had not considered to have sex with a man so he had no idea what was exactly Dixon wanted. Dolarhyde hesitated before answering.

"Oh yeah? in which way?" Dolarhyde asked a bit naive. Dixon chuckled at that and then decided to take things further and soon turned his hand to the member of Dolarhyde, squeezing it cheekily, feeling at last the whole bulk of his manhood between his fingers, with that touch he could feel that he had a very well endowed penis, which he had expected such a prominent and big man as Dolarhyde was.

To feel the hand of Dixon more than playing clasping his member on his jeans, Dolarhyde shuddered a bit oddly but he could not prevent to feel an immediate and perverse pleasure, long since no one did it to him, since Reba nobody touched him like that and his body reacted soon. His member would harden soon.

Dixon continued tinkering as he looked into Dolarhyde's eyes while he smiling at him malicious, desirous of hard sex.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dolarhyde asked trying not to drop a nervous laugh, because certainly it did not bother him at all.

"This is what I mean" muttered Dixon at last "let's have sex tonight, what do you think? I will offer you a very good pay for it" Dixon licked his lips, kept squeezing the virile manhood of Dolarhyde, he felt the member was hardened and although did not notice his penis already was hard too.

"I'm not the kind of homosexual who sleeps with men" said Dolarhyde directly, but Dixon followed crushing Dolarhyde's member and increasingly it became more pleasurable.

"It will be only tonight" Dixon said hoarsely "I like you too much and want you to take me, I want you penetrate inside me with your big cock brutally, I like hard sex and you are a perfect alpha male. I want you in my bed, this night, right now" said Dixon mostly excited and then tightened harder and dared the member of Dolarhyde.

Dolarhyde could not help to do a wince at the sharp squeeze, his pants began to squeeze even more than the bold hand of Dixon, he needed open the damn zipper soon to get rid of the infernal tension. The wince that had issued soon became in a moan of pleasure.

"Or is it perhaps you can't? Do not you have the power that I require? The power that I see in you? You are unable to satisfa..." Dixon wanted to provoke him at any cost but could not finish the sentence because suddenly Dolarhyde rose with rudeness to hear all that, feeling completely challenged, challenged by him, and he lunged at him with severity raw, aggressive, frowning. Dixon was shocked at this, this alpha male he loved had become in a brutal man, savage… and he liked more. Now he had on him, in the long sofa lined of fine vinyl. He went missing under imminent austere and threatening look of Dolarhyde and smiled maliciously at him but just as he was about to stroke his cheek, Dolarhyde lifted him with all his powerful force and as if Dixon weighed nothing, Dolarhyde took him in his arms and carried him quickly on the big luxurious bed.

Dolarhyde undressed him savagely in a total fit of unbridled passion, after all _the Red Dragon_ was responsible for handing all his strength and vitality. He was much more powerful than ever. Dixon got carried away, almost helplessly, he was also enjoying it too much. Dixon had always liked sadomasochism anyway. And as they were both completely naked, Dolarhyde stood between his legs, threatening with his large and hardened erection targeted to his entry, and without hesitation he penetrated him.

Dixon felt the pain of the sudden invasion inside him, luckily he was so sexual addicted, so thirsty for sex that he had lubricated himself before, he had done it from the time he had allowed to enter Dolarhyde to his suite. He had done it because he did not want to waste time.

With total ease of his physical force, Dolarhyde penetrated him to the bottom and began to give him hard and fast thrusts nonstop. Dixon had not felt anything like that in a long time, certainly Dolarhyde was very well endowed and Dixon was enjoying it too much. Dolarhyde was dominating him completely. Ecstasy completely invaded all his senses, his consciousness, the domination of his own body. Dixon moaned until he was hoarse. He was being penetrated by the alpha male, by _the Red Dragon_. He had achieved his purpose.

 **Notes:**

Well I hope you have enjoyed this first chapter which was sadistic, violent and intense :)  
First I want to thank to my dear Rachel Watson for helping me with ideas to weave though the first book of the original saga of Thomas Harris with the series currently adapted by Bryan Fuller and interleave with Wild Target.  
I want to apologize if I made mistakes because english is not my first language ^^U sorry about that.  
Actually I started writing it since several months ago but I had not decided to finish and publish it until now. I pretend this will be too intense, with strong graphic situations, some will be quite grotesque and hard and delicious sex :v  
So I have given the warning from now ;)  
But sometimes there will be opportunity for some fluff too.  
I hope to update soon, I also want to say that in this fic will be included Hannigram in future chapters.  
Btw the false name of Dolarhyde as John Bateman it's the real name of the another character of Richard, Lucas North (Spooks, from BBC) haha ;)


	2. Dominentur et sole

This chapter is very hard :v

…..

 _ **Chapter 2 — Dominentur et sole**_

Dixon could feel the strong attack invading his being increasingly frantic. Dolarhyde was not having compassion. The impeccably groomed blond hair of Dixon was now completely disheveled. The energizing force of the Red Dragon was possessing completely to Dixon, he was not regret for provoke him to get there. Dixon felt that his mind went mad. Francis Dolarhyde dominated all his senses.

Dolarhyde lunged inside him hard and with vigorous speed. Dixon had almost no chance to get used to it. When he started doing it suddenly he felt how Dolarhyde had already changed the position. He did it several times. Dolarhyde easily raised him with his strong arm muscles well exercised. Dixon arched his back in pleasure impulses. At one point he felt how Dolarhyde began to masturbate him. It was an exciting mix of double delight when Dolarhyde penetrated to the bottom while pulled his penis at the same time. Dixon considered he had insufficient groans to express all the pleasure what his body was experiencing. Dolarhyde had never masturbated another man, but he had made himself since he was a child and it had become almost a customary ritual. It was the first time he touched the member of another man, but found it was too good, he was more dominant, liked to have total control of someone like him, with a male body like his.

Dixon clung to his back hard digging his fingers on his skin, he made it even more when Dolarhyde began to nibble the collarbone again and again without stopping much. Dixon drowned his moans on Dolarhyde's shoulder. Above the pair of lovers on the roof was a large mirror that reached the same size as the big bed. Dixon had always liked to have huge mirrors in his bedrooms because he extraordinarily enjoyed watching his reflection and of his lover in turn having hard sex. At that time Dixon saw in the mirror the reflection of their copulating bodies and first he noticed that the stocky and broad back of Dolarhyde was provided with a large tattoo that covered it almost entirely. Even at that distance Dixon realized that the tattoo was too sexy, Dolarhyde's back was even more so. Dixon began stroking his back with much more excitement. In a moment their faces were encountered, they looked into their eyes mutually, noticing each other on their faces that they were both agitated and with a thin layer of sweat on their foreheads. Suddenly Dixon did not resist more, he took Dolarhyde by the neck and pulled his face to his and then kissed him and Dolarhyde agreed and opened his mouth with all the willingness and desire of kissing him deeply. Their lips met for the first time in a passionate kiss while their bodies remained united, agitated, humid. Dixon soon felt his tongue enter into contact with the tongue of Dorlahyde in his mouth while his stiff erection continuously slid into him. It was a wonderful feeling excessively. Dolarhyde's kiss was intoxicating him in total pleasure.

Dolarhyde stopped for a moment to kiss him to spot the face of Dixon for a moment. Greatly enjoyed to see his expression of great joy and kissed him again eagerly. The kiss lasted longer than the first and Dolarhyde further increased the attacks and the pace at which he masturbated him with his right hand, he felt he wanted to devour him whole. Dolarhyde had wanted to lick and suck the penis of his blond lover without hesitation, he wished, but he didn't want to stop to penetrate him, it felt so damn good to be inside his warm, tight cavity. Dixon stopped the kiss a moment when he could not contain his need to scream. He screamed louder than the previous times while put both hands to Dolarhyde's dark hair and stroked between his phalanges. Dolarhyde sought his mouth with his again hastily to reassure some of his groans. Dixon drowned his groans when he returned to enjoy deep kissing his lover alpha. After that, Dolarhyde began to bury his face against Dixon's chest, he fumbled entirely naked and pearly skin of sweat from his lover blond, fingering desperately each inch of his white skin and soon began to nibble his nipples to make them blush. Dixon felt again that was falling in madness.

"Ahh man ... a whole alpha !" Dixon groaned with hoarse voice agitated. Almost he felt as if his body could no longer resist. His moans encouraged Dolarhyde to make further use of force, was the power of the Dragon which made him to have all the power to possess another man in that way .

When Dixon wanted to return to kiss Dolarhyde just could barely touch his lips to his because Dolarhyde immediately grabbed him by the waist and took him to give it a half turn on the bed. Dixon just got carried away, loved this domination, that night Dolarhyde could do whatever he wanted with him, his body was his. In an instant Dixon was in a rear-penetration position, kneeling on the soft bed and before he had time to turn to see he felt the humidity of the rough, warm tongue of Dolarhyde touring his entry until the alpha began licking the inside. Dixon felt a burning feeling go around his belly. Long time no man dared to do to him, and to think that was Dolarhyde who was doing it without asking excited him more.

"ahhh ... this is so ... delicious" Dixon said in the midst of ecstasy. Dolarhyde continued encroaching with his tongue into the concavity of Dixon while he pulled his own member to masturbate himself, wanted to be introduced into his cavity so warm and narrow again, had to awaken a more powerful erection to penetrate him. See Dixon as vulnerable to him in that position he was suddenly having delusional thoughts into his mind, he felt almost as if in the depths of his unconsciousness the Red Dragon had returned to order, order him to penetrate mercilessly to Dixon. The Dixon entrance was completely moistened now.

Dixon felt when Dolarhyde stopped to lick but almost immediately felt the heavy erection of Dolarhyde now settling over his reddened buttocks.

"c'mon...put it inside now... don't stop" Dixon insisted hoarsely, looking askance. Dolarhyde smirked emitting a slight sneer, licking the moisture from his lips that was salivated and soon began to penetrate inside him again, first just by inserting the tip of his reddened glans and then penetrating completely. Dixon groaned again strongly to feel the full invasion inside him. In this position he felt more pain but also knew that Dolarhyde had achieved to touch his prostate almost instantly, stimulating, causing a new erection and an increased sexual pleasure. His cock hardened more and tried to relieve it with a hand but the invasion of a member of hos alpha lover inside him made him hold back to the bed sheets. Before Dixon could get used to the enormous rigidity member of that alpha, Dolarhyde lunged faster and more brutal than he had done before. Dixon felt the pleasant mixture of pain and ecstasy.

"John ... ahhh ... please wait a ..." Dixon called him with his fake name. Dixon was about to ask him to stop, but decided against it, not wanting to miss a single moment of having hot sex with this Herculean Adonis. But he felt he had to resist it even if he felt as if Dolarhyde would leave him in two. Dixon's back arched. Dolarhyde could feel that Dixon was suffering a bit but also perceived in his hands the way how Dixon was enjoying it. He could feel through the naked and sweaty skin of him how Dixon was enjoying a lot of pleasure being penetrated by him in this perverse way. The burning body of Dixon was trembling in his arms. Dolarhyde's hands searched his erect phallus again in outburst. He liked to feel it, throbbing between his male restless fingers.

Dixon also tried to move to contain mostly the penetration but Dolarhyde could submit him before he had the chance. Dixon felt that his body did not respond, Dolarhyde's hands were driving his hip in swing.

"Johnny ... ahhh you're a monster is soo huge! Ahh...bestial..." yelled the blond trying to get enough air to resist. Hearing the last words uttered by Dixon, Dolarhyde felt greatly provoked. He had called him monster. He was. He would show to him.

"You want to feel a true bestial power?" Dolarhyde muttered hoarsely. Dixon realized that during all the sexual encounter, Dolarhyde had not spoken before, the guttural sounds of his voice just have been simply gasps, barely audible. Dixon again felt excited due the judgment threatening of Dolarhyde and bit his lip.

"Do you want to know what a real monster is?" Dolarhyde asked seductively fiery. Dixon just nodded with a whimper and soon his face was sunken against the pillow, one of the heavy hands of Dolarhyde had pushed him heavily to lift his body and cause the attacks were even more rigid. Dixon bit the pillow. He thought allegorically that Dolarhyde was a monster but this time he could not say it. While still was penetrating him savagely, Dolarhyde kept his hands heavily on Dixon's back.

 _"You see, stupid Red Dragon? I'm not a sexual failed!"_ Dolarhyde thought to himself in his dreamlike psychopathy that only he could understand. Dolarhyde felt between his fingers as the glans of Dixon began to leak. His hard member inside the blond was also bursting, throbbing. Dolarhyde further increased in the attacks inside Dixon until his orgasm was released in a delicious explosion of his seed. Dixon internally felt the warmth of the ejaculation of his alpha male lover and then it began to trickle between his buttocks. Dolarhyde smeared with his fingers the white liquid. Dixon smiled breathlessly for the perversity of Dolarhyde and gave a long sigh. Dolarhyde leaned to nibble the top of his back, his blushing ear, his buttock. Dolarhyde felt like if the malevolent Red Dragon teeth belonged to him, it had amalgamated to him forever.

The unbridled lust lasted a great while longer until finally their bodies exhausted and panting were separated. It did not pass much time for both to fall asleep, Dixon was proud of what he had accomplished and he reached to stroke one of the pectorals of Dolarhyde, he managed to feel the beating of his heart pounding due the sex before falling into deep sleep.

…..

The annoying alarm clock on the dresser, that was next to the bed, rattled early. Dixon managed to turn it off with his hand and decided to close his eyes in order to get some more sleep. He was terribly exhausted. Daylight hurt his face. A few minutes later the alarm sounded again and this time he decided it was time to start to get up and his first immediate thought was to blindly feel the other side of the bed. He realized, to his surprise, that his prized alpha lover was not there. Dixon tried to sit up quickly but he immediately felt a pain that provoked him wince. He found that acute pain came from his butt. No doubt it was an intense night of rough sex. Long time since he had not sex so wild like that way even considering that in his life he had slept with too many men. But despite the pain he did not regret at all. Now he should worry about where was Dolarhyde. Dixon carefully lifted from his bed and reached to dress as soon as he could with his boxers. Found his underwear lying on the floor which Dolarhyde had torn the night before. Dolarhyde often did that with whom he slept.

Dixon moved across the room. In the time in which he did it, he not heard any noise to indicate that Dolarhyde could be in the room, but the suite was huge and to get to the bathroom he had to walk a few feet. Dixon began to feel strangely desperate. He felt even more frustrated when after searching in the whole suite found no trace of him. Dixon was not a sentimental man but absence so sudden of Dolarhyde made him feel bad. Although remember the delicious night of sex that had given him, comforted his bad feeling. He leaned over the balcony and saw a little traffic from cars traveling on the street wondering if Dolarhyde could be running from him in one of those vehicles. But it was ridiculous to see it well from there. At that distance the cars looked like ants.

He sat on the edge of the bed, a little hesitant and the electrifying pain hurt him a little. He began to stroke the side of the bed where Dolarhyde had slept.

"That bastard not even waited to make him a good pay ..." said Dixon for himself with laughable voice. The throbbing pain in his butt turned to afflict him, for now that would be a good memory of the wild sex he had lived the night before.

Dixon as quickly as he could he went to take a shower to hurry to down to reception fast in order to ask the manager and staff if any of them had seen Dolarhyde. When the blond was about to get into the shower, after having stripped completely he felt the viscous moisture sliding into his entrance. Dolarhyde's semen trickled slowly between his thighs. He realized that he had not stopped to think before about the fact that Dolarhyde had not used a condom. Dixon was a promiscuous man but had always been fully cautious with the protection. But sex with Dolarhyde had been too sudden and taken to realize at the time that they should use protection. Anyway he did not care much that Dolarhyde had ejaculated inside him. Actually he liked. He opened the shower tap and the water began to cover his body. He not stopped thinking about what happened the night before, even not for a moment.

Dixon finished showering when he quickly went to the reception and gave to the manager and his staff in charge the physical description of Dolarhyde to locate him but all they could show him were some recordings from security cameras which actually saw Dolarhyde leaving the hotel. But there was no more data of that. Dixon thought it was better look for him outside.

"Sorry we can't help you more, _Mr. Shepard_ " said the manager addressing to Dixon. Dixon could never use his real name to make hotel reservations in any way, dealing of a murderer for hire. Whenever settled into a suite he did it under false identities making cash payments. Dixon smiled to the manager with his white smile and left the place without protest.

The blond decided that he should continue work on it outside the hotel so hurried to leave the place and seek Dolarhyde on his own. He thought that for obvious reasons he could find him again in the same place where they had met the previous evening and took a taxi that went to the big main archive of the Boston Herald. But while Dixon spent all day and all afternoon there, he could never find Dolarhyde. His frustration grew and he realized that there. He only had wasted his time. He felt exasperated.

"I should have gone to consult a detective to locate him before... maybe this time it may be harder to find him" he said to himself as he finished down all the steps outside the building. He was annoyed. Dolarhyde really liked him and now seemed he had vanished like smoke in the air, in a huge city that had no idea, in a country that was not even his. He thought that Dolarhyde was becoming more than his whim, he was becoming in an obsession. But that did not matter. Dixon always had had great obsessions and always managed to satisfy them. He would find Dolarhyde at any cost.

Dixon called a taxi to go back to his suite. As the car stopped and he climbed in the vehicle, he indicated the driver the address where was the luxury hotel, the same hotel where he had been possessed by the vigorous alpha with sexy Red Dragon tattoo drawn on the skin of his back male. Dixon licked his lips at the memory, recalling his burning kisses, recalling his huge, thick cock sliding inside him with outburst, remembering his male hands almost merged with his bare skin excited. He also felt the tingle in his crotch that made him stiffen under his pants, which the taxi driver might not notice. A few seconds after Dixon closed the door and the taxi started the march, without knowing Dolarhyde was crossing the sidewalk, in order to also take a taxi. Unbeknownst Dolarhyde had been close to Dixon that afternoon, but neither Dolarhyde did know it. Dolarhyde had spent the time until sunset in a park near the daily local of Boston, thinking about the events and watching people walk there. Thinking in wild sex he had had with Dixon, how good he had felt fucking him and thinking about the power that the Big Red Dragon gave him. He felt much stronger.

Dolarhyde took the next taxi and told the driver the place where he wanted to go. He reached to the modest apartment building where he had installed a few weeks ago.

He reached the building and with normally pace he reached his apartment. Some of his neighbors saw him but they already had accustomed to it.

Dolarhyde did the same ritual act that had become accustomed to do from years ago, meticulously inspect everything in home was in order. He still had the obsession to be wary of thieves. It was also quite late and since the morning, after return to his apartment from the suite of Dixon to change his clothes, he had not been inside the house.

After finished reviewing every corner he decided to take a new night shower. He needed it, needed to relax.

Being under water of the sprinkler, he concentrated in the nakedness of his pelvis. His eye fell on his own member, limp and wet by the running water from the shower. He hold up the phallus with one of his hands and remembered the exciting and passionate night he had with the mysterious blond man who knew nothing more than his name, a name that could not be forgotten. The name of Hector Dixon would remain in his memory for posterity. Dolarhyde thought the time had penetrated him for the first time, the first warm contact inside. It was a different contact that he had with women before, an oppressive and rigid contact.

He remembered how much he had enjoyed touching the body of the blond with his hands, the body of another man. His moans with sweet male voice as if he were an adolescent boy. Nibbling his white skin, almost as clear as the skin of Reba, but different. And that blond hair, golden as the sun still shone in the dim light of the lamps of the luxurious room, golden hair which ended disheveled by the agitation of the wild sex. That blond hair golden like the sun.

Dolarhyde began massaging his penis under the current concise flow of water from the shower. It soon rose to an erection. He could not stop thinking about Hector, that was the name of the blond, that the only thing he knew about him. He also knew that his skin was delicious, had found that his lips were sweet and that his body tight. Remembered how the blond had contracted the invasion against him and how the blond trembled in his arms, the arms of the Red Dragon. The erection in the shower rose more obscenely. Now he almost vividly remembered the deep kisses they had in meeting of their wet tongues. Dolarhyde was masturbating due Dixon. He eased his erection with both hands. The water continued to fall.

"Ahh" he groaned finally and pulled his cock harder. Remembered that small body imprisoning his member from within to not let it go, that white British skin, that white and perfect teeth, that boldness of him to provoke him to take to his bed, those eyes of deep gray gaze, that shining golden hair like the sun...golden as the sun. He was the Red Dragon...The golden like the sun...

The domination of the Red Dragon, the absolute power of the evilness of Satan compressed in the conceptualized idea of a mortal man...the Red Dragon dominating the world with his evil yoke upon the earth...the fearful woman clothed in sun who tries to escape from the evil ... but it is late, the golden woman has been reached for him and has been entangled with the tail of the Red Dragon. He's about to devour her...golden like the sun... then...maybe Blake was wrong.

That was!

Dolarhyde stopped to think about this new twisted idea. If he was the Red Dragon, perhaps Dixon was the representation of the sun. Maybe Blake was wrong, the anthropomorphic representation of the Sun was not a woman but a man. Or maybe the wrong had been the apostle John in the revelation of the apocalypse. He felt his cock explode. He moaned loudly.

His erection finished the unprecedented spill of his sperm spread in his hands, running water vanished it. Dolarhyde closed the faucet of the shower and walked out of the there. He took a towel from the shelf and dried. After fit it around his waist, he went to make out his own reflection in the mirror sink. He had taken the decision to return to reunite with his other part, the man who was meant to complement him. The blond man, golden like the sun. But he would have to do it the next morning. It was midnight.

Dolarhyde woke up the next day and the first thought he had in mind was the image of Hector Dixon. Did not stop to do echo in his mind the ideas he had had the night before in the shower. The Red Dragon could not be complete if he did not get to his feet the man clothed in sunshine. But he had mastered him a whole night and that was enough for now. He understood that it was the reason it had been too good fuck him. It was a clear signal. Their bodies were made for perfect fit.

Despite his newfound ideology, he knew still was awkward to him fully decipher all the surreal and bizarre ideas of his mind. Dr. Hannibal Lecter with his refined and sophisticated general of the world knowledge was best placed to understand it. He still felt obsessed with the idea to meet in person with him, enjoy together their common archetypal dreams, enjoyment of bloodshed. But he also had to find Hector Dixon. He knew then that he had been too stupid to have left his suite without saying goodbye.

Dolarhyde finished breakfast and left his apartment in order to look for Dixon soon.

Moreover Dixon had not stopped thinking about the alpha Adonis. He drove him crazy. Dixon had slept naked in his large and luxurious bed in the presidential suite, as if to revive the memory of what had happened between them that night of debauchery. At least feel the red satin sheets slide under his bare skin could be the closest thing to remember the contact with Dolarhyde's hands fondling his nakedness, possessing him.

But early in the morning, before he could finish awake, Dixon received a video call on his laptop. He was the man of high ranking, the British politician who had hired him to commit the murder. He called Dixon with the order to return to London as soon as possible to give him the rest of the pay and also to avoid arousing suspicion of the police. The man did not care when Dixon explained that he had been changing of the hotel since had killed the man and he always had been totally careful to leave no tracks. The politician ordered and threatened him for him to take the private jet that would take him to UK in an hour.

"Dixon you've done an excellent job, you deserve to pay the rest. The private jet will wait for you in an hour" said the man from the monitor.

"I'm glad you are satisfied with my work ...sir" Dixon smiled.

"I'm very much, I cannot complain about your job, such flawless job".

"But ...I would want to stay at least one more day here..." Dixon said hesitantly. He knew the political would reject it.

"The private jet will wait for you in an hour Dixon. We cannot raise suspicions in the police. We must not risk..." said the politician while he would hold a cigar between his fingers.

"I understand but ... it would be just another day" Dixon tried to persuade him smiling. The man became exasperated at it.

"The private jet will wait for you in an hour Dixon. If you dare to try to contradict me, my men will come for you... they will treat you excellently" snapped the man with sarcasm. Dixon noted the rigidity of his expression when puffed his wide cigar. There was a silence before that Dixon responded his answer faltering.

"So in an hour ..."

"In an hour the private jet will fly to London. Spread your time, darling" criminally the man smiled from the monitor of his laptop and stopped the video call. Dixon sighed resignedly although he didn't desire to leave the hotel, from the country, to go the damn airport. But the threatening expression of the influential man was too clear and menacing. Dixon could read well all his evilness in his aged face through the screen. He decided to resist protesting and ignoring his authority. At one point he was already packing his baggage and taking a taxi to the airport where the private jet was waiting for him.

He was frustrated for not being able to find Dolarhyde but he proposed to return to the country and the city as soon as he fixed that issue in England.

When Dolarhyde went to the hotel where Dixon was staying, blond already was about to board the private jet that would return to his country. Also when Dolarhyde approached the luxurious reception to ask for Hector Dixon, the manager and his staff told him that no one with that name had stayed there.

…..

Meanwhile in The Chesapeake Hospital, in Virginia, lying wounded on a cold hospital bed the agent Will Graham, recovering of the harm that the murderer Francis Dolarhyde had caused him in their last fatal meeting, when Dolarhyde had discovered the address of his house and had attacked him with planned infamy. The wound that Dolarhyde had done in his cheek terribly hurt, it had caused a large swelling and still had swollen the skin and also hurt the wound done by the bullet that had gone to bounce off his forearm, but especially hurt to him the abandonment of Hannibal. Hannibal had fled with his psychiatrist therapist, Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier with unknown destination a few weeks ago, probably to Europe. Hannibal had left Will.

Will Graham had always been attracted for the enigmatic and refined personality of Dr. Hannibal Lecter. Although he did not admit it, even at that time, the criminal acts of Dr. Lecter amazed him for that the simple fact he never hesitate to carry them out. For his serenity and elegance that he never missed even to murder and dismember to someone. Hannibal Lecter always managed to do his tasks, always managed to materialize his darker impulses and commit his twisted murderers and turn them into culinary arts, another of his passions.

He had been unconscious for a couple of days, he had dealt a heavy blow to the temple when he fell down the stairs after being hit by the projectile of Dolarhyde. At that time Graham thought it was his final, Dolarhyde had it in his hands. But it passed a day since that had awakened in the hospital. He realized that was in an intensive care ward, mitigated by painkillers and pain. He was still recovering, but gradually was managing to recover the notion of things. He looked at the clock of big numbers hanging on the wall of his room. He could see it was about to give four o'clock, but had no idea whether it was afternoon or morning. He went back to sleep until noon, this time he notice it because the sunbeam could penetrate through the blinds. He might be able to smell the medicine that permeated the atmosphere. Suddenly someone came into his room. Dimly he could realize it was Jack Crawford who stopped at the foot of his bed staring at him. Graham tried to speak but felt a terrible sharp and an oppressive pain in the side of his jaw that prevented him from even utter a word.

Crawford smiled and Will realized that his condition would not allow him to speak even if he tried.

Jack knew Will wanted to communicate but he could not do it, so he approached him a small whiteboard with a marker and then Will began writing his questions, with some awkwardness but being concrete and direct.

 _"What happened to him?"_ Graham wrote on the whiteboard.

Crawford explained all the events that had happened after Will lost consciousness at that confrontation against Dolarhyde and how then he and the FBI arrived to rescue him.

"Sorry Will, we could not catch him. Unfortunate he escaped leaving no trace, just a few hairs without root; it is not suitable for analysis. He brought gloves, most likely, so we have nothing of his footprints and fingerprints. His shoes are a style all too common industrial footwear, I cannot imagine how many thousands of people use the same type of footwear that guy used that day. Unfortunately, in the Brooklyn Museum he killed the two responsible for the art gallery by which we have no witnesses of the crime or credible evidence. The man was wearing a costume that day no doubt."

Will Graham managed to write on the whiteboard another sentence. _"He had a mask"_

"That continues to hinder the case. We don't know the real face of the Red Dragon. Even in front you were he didn't show with his face exposed. The only person who has seen his real face, Freddie Lounds, is now dead," said grim Crawford and made a short break to continue "although some witnesses who reached see the museum entrance have provided us some data from which our staff has managed to develop a sketch, not enough reliable but is the closest to Red Dragon we have for now"

Crawford sat on a chair near the bed. Will had listened him intently all the time.

"It seems that in the house that caught fire was not a trace of the life he had. The blind woman who knew him and with whom he had a relationship doesn't know beyond what they know in the film laboratory where he worked, all the data are scarce. It seems that Dolarhyde swallowed the earth, but we're still in intensive search. "

At that time the nurse hit the glass of the window to indicate to Crawford that the time of visits had ended.

"I should go out, I'll see you later" said Crawford, annoyed that the nurse hit the glass a few times more.

Graham looked at him reluctant. As Crawford left the room, he thought of the anxiety caused him to know where the hell could be now Dolarhyde and how the hell his face was.

He was defeated again by the torpor and fell into a deep dream. In his mind appeared memories of a past that was not far behind. In his mind a kind of film of his most prominent memories were presented since he had met Dr. Lecter. From the first moment he saw him, the intense feeling that had developed for him; the unknown, stubborn obsession to be part of his life hidden and even that time when Hannibal stabbed him, after Will had confirmed suspicions that had for some time ago, the cannibalism of Hannibal.

Hannibal had betrayed him and he had hurt him in the side of the body, that pain had seemed much more terrible than the bullet that has grazed his arm three days ago. The wound that Hannibal had done to him had been done with surgical precision and then...he kissed him. Strange way of loving. It didn't seem much strange when a couple of months ago he and Hannibal had become lovers, in the same spot where Hannibal had offered him psychotherapy. It had started on the divan and was over in bed, the bed of psychiatrist. Will Graham had again the impression to feel the satin sheets tangling on their naked bodies that desired each other and that finally had joined.

The relationship between the agent Graham and Dr. Lecter had always been strange but at the same time complementary. They felt an odd sort of co-dependency. Something exciting.

But it had failed to fully consummate in that time.

After Hannibal wounded Will and attacked Crawford that day, they had managed to capture him. Dr. Lecter had been detained in the psychiatric, sheltered with maximum safety in the State Forensic Hospital in Baltimore, condemned to nine life sentences. Ironically because the same Lecter, Will Graham had also been detained there before, unjustly, for a time, he was acquitted of charges to prove his innocence and sanity. But Graham was not too sure of his own sanity. He had never killed someone with purpose and coolness as Dr. Lecter did it. Think of something like that really disturbed him too much, but yet even now he still was repressing his darker impulses in the recesses of his psyche Will Graham thought like a murderer.

But a few months after his detention, Hannibal Lecter had escaped, then to deceive and kill the nurses who guarded him.

Will Graham continued his lethargy for a few hours, sore, undermined. Outside the ICU, Jack Crawford received at the hands of a nurse a targeted letter to Will. The nurse told him that some flowers had also come along with the letter.

Crawford had a strange feeling. The flowers had not any signature, the letter only showed the recipient. Crawford asked the nurse to take the flowers to Will's room while he put the letter in his pocket.

He got that an intern make a fluoroscopic review the letter in the ray room. He cut the envelope carefully with a thin paper knife and superficially checked inside the envelope hoping that did not contain any sort of strange powder. When he realized that there was no something strange took the letter from the envelope and proceeded to read it. It was definitely what he guessed. A letter from Lecter.

 _Dearest Will:_

 _I found out the hard confrontation you had a few days ago in your own home against that murderer. You do not know how I would love to visit you. Unfortunately we live in a primitive era, nor savage nor scholarly. And your curse is the half measures. Already have you accepted the eccentricity of your psyche, dear Will? Or perhaps you still live disturbing yourself regretting the faults of others? Here the life is good. I am glad to be away from the irrational duplication of the psychiatric hospital._

 _I wish you a very speedy recovery. I still think of you often._

— _Hannibal Lecter—_

Crawford was not surprised by the cunning with which Hannibal had managed to send the letter without suspecting its origin. Hannibal was too cunning but the FBI would track it. Crawford was also surprised by the intimidating manner in which Hannibal headed in that letter to Will. He felt they held a close and intimate relationship sporadically. But he knew it was only inferences, he was not sure.

He put the letter in his pocket and thought of the idea of burning it in an incinerator.

In the United States, in Boston, Dolarhyde felt a little desperate, the power of the Red Dragon was not helping him find his other part. He continued finding Dixon. However despite desperation, Dolarhyde had returned to resume one of his favorite habits. After taking another night shower and dressing just with his kimono he sat on the sofa in the living room to watch some new home movies he had obtained from a new laboratory of films that had just found in the city. He had used his false identity and thanks to his experience it had provided things.

After finish watching the home movies and excited with them Dolarhyde went to the "special room". In his new apartment he had conditioned extravagantly one of the rooms designating in order to concentrate there all the potential of the Great Red Dragon. He already was the Red Dragon since his visit to the Brooklyn Museum but despite that he had already devoured the original work of Blake, decided to keep the poster which portrayed the Red Dragon, replica of the original. He thought it would be a good way to keep worshiping himself. He sensed that watching the reproduction was facing it was like if he was seeing himself in a mirror. He entered the room and turned on the lights that lit focused on lithography and below of it lay the huge and heavy old bible of hundred years with covers lined with black leather, open in a page that referred the revelations of the apocalypse. The smell of old paper rose to his face.

Dolarhyde was reading again and again a specific paragraph. Paragraph that explained everything. _"And there appeared in the sky a great sign: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet and a crown of twelve stars on her head."_

The kimono fell to the ground sliding down his skin. Now he was naked in front of the Great old Bible and lithography of the Red Dragon. It had raised between his legs a thick erection. He began trying to relax it with one hand. Dolarhyde began to go into a trance as he read and reread the paragraphs that talked about the Red Dragon. When he changed the fragile pages and inevitably fell some of the newspaper clippings which had terrible crimes, mostly murders of older women.

Dolarhyde still retained the habit of cutting these pieces of news and kept them within the huge holy book. One of the cuttings that had fallen to the ground was part of the news about the murder of the British politician who had committed Dixon two days ago. Newspaper clippings had fine annotations of Dolarhyde with calligraphy similar to Blake. Used his notes reveal part of his dark thoughts. Now he felt that his head was unable to hold all the majestic strength of the Red Dragon. He felt should liberate some of his dark thoughts annotating them on the cuttings. He felt his dreamlike thoughts now not only escaped from his ears, visible and luminescent in the darkness, but managed to escape from his eyes and from his mouth. He had put the fake teeth. The teeth would prevent the Red Dragon ran away from him, from his body.

Dixon came to England after an exhausting journey of several hours in the private jet. When he arrived the London, the politician went to receive him and the private detective at the airport where the jet had landed. Dixon congratulated him and handed him a check for a large sum of money to pay off the rest of the pay.

"You have not seen me ever, and never will see me anymore in the future. Understood? Dixon?" said the man coldly. His expression never ceased to seem cruel. Dixon felt annoyed.

"Understood sir..." said Dixon concealing his displeasure, outlining a fake smile. He tried to shake hands with the politician egomaniac but he even not took his hands out of the pockets of his suit. At that time Dixon also wanted to assassinate him. He was a hateful man. But the wage had actually been very good, so he could not complain.

After leaving the man, Dixon went to his new penthouse. On arriving there he felt a little empty, he had not been able to stop thinking about the wonderful alpha man he had met in Boston. But it was too early to return to the United States, mainly because just as the politician had said to him, they should not raise suspicions to the police on US soil until a few weeks later.

He should resign and find meanwhile something to distract himself, but could not consider the idea of hiring another man to have sex. His obsession was now completely set in the suggestive strong man of sexy tattoo. Taking a shower that night he realized that some brands had bruised behind his neck. He smiled to himself by realizing that Dolarhyde had marked him as his own. He grinned in the mirror.

When he checked the phone noticed he had several voice messages saved.

"Oh... finally you dared to call me...stupid" said Dixon to himself with some anger after finish to hear one of messages. All messages were from the same person. Dixon decided not to listen more.

…..

 **Final note:** Okay I hope you have enjoyed this new chapter, I have made many references to the original Red Dragon by Thomas Harris of which some refer tracking a similar plot :3

I apologize if I made mistake, I keep trying my best.

By the way, the Reba McClane mentioned in my fic is based on the original book by Harris, a white woman of reddish hair.

I hope you liked the dream allusions that I have included in the text.

I hope to update soon ;)


	3. Sexual instincts

**Chapter 3-Sexual instincts**

Hector Dixon did not answer even one of the many messages that were saved on his phone mailbox. After hearing almost half of them, now he felt desperately irritated.

"That idiot always knows how to make me feel irritated. Fucking bastard" the blond grumbled constantly in his luxurious living room where also was alone, as usual.

The blond poured some brandy from his own personal canteen, enjoyed the bitter drink served with ice as he lay back in his sofa lined with black vinyl, thinking of the words he had heard from the voicemail on his phone a few minutes ago. Those messages had been sent by his partner, who had not seen just a couple of weeks ago.

It took about twenty minutes for Dixon stopped feeling so angry. He was annoyed by those messages but then managed to subside a little his angry and transformed it in just a flimsy resentment.

Peter Guillam had been his partner and lover for nearly two years, but the differences between them had always caused a big problem for their relationship because the intense personality of Dixon sometimes ended by exasperating Guillam, although Dixon had stopped requesting sexual services to other men just for him, an activity which he was an addict. But though he not expressed much Dixon had fallen in love with Guillam and although on numerous occasions he had been greatly tempted to call back some alpha Adonis to warm his bed, he had resisted to do that countless times just because he was aware that for the first time he should pay fidelity to the man who had taught him to feel what he believed was definitely love. Guillam was a man who knew very well please him in bed and all that had been aroused in him feelings of affection.

But now he was separated again of Guillam so Dixon thought again that to pay allegiance to anyone was absurd and even laughable, he was the best assassin in England and perhaps the best around the UK so he could not afford to stoop to that level of sentimentality.

Now he was alone again and anyway could re-hire any man whatever he wanted for have sex, besides at the moment in his mind only remained insistent the idea of finding at all costs the alpha male sexy that had possessed him in the luxurious bed in his suite just a couple of days ago. He knew he could not return to the United States in a couple of weeks to avoid suspicion in the police, but he was determined to return to seek the Adonis alpha with that sexy tattoo covering his entire muscled back where Dixon could still remember he had dug his nails when had been clinging to his body while Dolarhyde penetrated inside him with rapt lust.

Remembering the whole process of their sexual intercourse that both had been together that night again he felt excited greatly, as he returned to pour another glass of alcohol and as he reclined on the couch wrapped in black vinyl, and then he decided to hear once again one of the last messages that Guillam had left on the answering machine just one hour ago.

 _"Hector, please I need to see you. Call my mobile phone and immediately I'm going to be in your flat"_

Dixon decided to sip a few drinks from his glass as he finished reproduce the voice message. He looked constantly to the recorder, irresolute in deciding to ignore the request that the message of his former boyfriend or accept his proposal.

Since the blond had left the bathroom after taking a hot shower to half an hour ago, he was still wearing only one of his new robes whose fine silky soft fabric with great grace fell over his naked body, sticking to his skin that just a few minutes ago had been wet with water from the shower, and under the shower Dixon had been thinking of him, in the sexy manly man who had taken his body in the United States, and under the shower Dixon did not stop to masturbate himself thinking about him, remembering how wildly he penetrated to the depths of his being and he clung to his back and caressed his dark hair between the phalanges of his hands. And among the moans of pleasure in the shower he was uttering his false name again and again, _John Bateman_. And when he had dried his damp skin with the towel he had seen in the mirror those marks made by the black-haired, that had done on his body. Now Dixon was back in the mirror, wearing his fine silk robe, carefully observing those sublime brands, caressing them gently with his fingers.

After pondering on his memories and concerns he could not stop thinking about the dark-haired man. Thinking of it made him feel excited, the heat of the excitement remained in his body, the heat seemed growing up and perhaps that was the reason that prompted him to decide to call his former lover that had been insisting him to reunite. His heat did not decrease; even his hands or his sex toys might not be able to lessen his desire. Dixon needed to feel a man after all and needed that now. And alcohol emboldened him much more.

After a while, Dixon had made a decision.

The timbre of his large and luxurious flat suddenly rang just a few minutes after Dixon had called him. Dixon's hair was still wet and to hear the call of the door a growing excitement assaulted his chest. He knew it was Guillam, he had asked him to go to his flat in a quick and concrete response. He was determined to call him and let him have a good reconciliation with him, culminated between the sheets of his bed.

Dixon smirked with malicious smile; he tied the belt of his robe at the waist to cover his nakedness notorious and headed for the door to open.

"Hector" Guillam's voice mumbled greeting, still standing at the door outside the penthouse, in the corridor that connected it. Before Dixon uttered a word, his eyes fell upon the face of the little blond, a face that had been impatient to see after those weeks they had been separated each other. Guillam noticed immediately that Dixon just had taken a shower not too long ago and inevitably he felt a little uneasy because not only Dixon had called him to meet personally in his flat at that time of night but also he was dressed in that very suggestive way. With the transparency of the fabric of the robe of Dixon was almost obvious at a glance that he was perfectly naked and Guillam knew well the ardor of Dixon and how he enjoyed to provoke him. Guillam was suddenly excited to guess what was about to happen.

Dixon smiled at him in sexy way while his eyes were finally fixed on his.

"Come in..." Dixon said in a very soft and sensual voice. Guillam did not hesitate to obey the request and went in, and after Dixon closed the door, Guillam could appreciate Dixon's body back realizing the way his robe perfectly was molded to his naked body and could see the outline of his naked back and the protruding volume of his butt.

Guillam sensed that Dixon was clearly intended to seduce him, he always had done that and he always fell on his games. And since their separation he almost couldn't resist. He needed to feel again Dixon's body.

Dixon did not turn to him, instead he remained standing against the door turning his face just a little to see him askance.

"I've been missing you... Hector...too much" Guillam whispered with hoarse voice with excitement. The provocation of Dixon certainly also was beginning to cause him a tightening in his manhood. Dixon still did not turn to him, but in the reflection of the fine polished mahogany door, Guillam could realize that Dixon smiled with flirtatious malice. Then Guillam did not resist more to approach his body to his with a bit of desperation, hugging Dixon from behind and soon he began to kiss the bare shoulder of Dixon tucked under his robe, Dixon has just discovered that part with the intention to provoke him even more. Wordlessly, Guillam began to lay his hands on the waist of Dixon, feeling with pleasure the silhouette of his small body under his restless hands.

Dixon moaned a bit in low tones to feel the hands of Guillam touching his torso, again, leaving him to continue with the caresses through his body that made him feel gradually excited. Dixon always greatly enjoyed feeling the male hands of another man exploring beneath his clothes, rummaging recklessly to fondle his skin and Guillam had known well how to please him.

Guillam's hands continued fingering his whole body and soon he ventured his hands under the thin fabric of fine silk of his robe, feeling the touch of bare skin of Dixon, burning with desire. Dixon was swayed by the unbridled passion that soon would overflow and could feel how Guillam boldly began to rub his buttocks against his already hard member, which was still captive in his pants.

Although due the touch was extremely pleasant and he could even allow to be fucked by him just once against the door with desperation, Dixon did not resist to turn to face Guillam and then their faces met again at last. Dixon looked at him and rose on the balls of his feet and began kissing him. Guillam immediately corresponded the kiss, he had been desperate to enjoy again the contact of Dixon's lips with his in passionate kisses. No separate their desperate mouths, two men walked into the living room and Dixon sat on the black vinyl couch, previously sliding his robe to take off it before the eyes of Guillam. Then Dixon began to open his legs to leave uncovered his throbbing erection caused by the excitement to be soon possessed by his former lover whom he had called to calm his heat.

Dixon looked at him maliciously and Guillam eventually lowered the zipper of his pants to free his erection quickly and as soon as he was stripped of his pants he put between the legs of Dixon and accommodated his red glans in the corner of his entrance, Dixon's entrance was already wetted with lubricant. Dixon encouraged him to continue, looking at him with malice and licking his lips. Guillam then began to enter into him to the bottom with a little abruptly that after all Dixon loved. Dixon winced a little as he felt the invasion of his hard cock and then they both moaned with pleasure, they finally were joined again in delicious copulation, Guillam could finally feel back into the narrow and warm cavity of his sexy assassin lover who to feel the way Guillam's rigid member came to the bottom of him, he clung tightly to his back.

"Ahhh, you're a naughty dirty Hect…you've already prepared your hole to receive me, you knew that would drive me crazy as soon as I see you" Guillam whispered excitedly, slipping deeper into him.

"Pete do it fast...do not stop...you know well how I like you do it," Dixon whispered suggestively with sexy voice, near his ear and licked his earlobe. Guillam obeyed his request and began to ram inside him with progressive power and Dixon felt the delicious stimulation of his lover reaching the internal hot spot of his prostate, making him reach a peak of pleasure with each thrust. No doubt the union of their bodies had always been wonderfully pleasant and added to the despair that Guillam had to be back with him was causing his thrusts were wilder than usual so Dixon clung to his back with greater force, but then he discovered that the back of Guillam did not feel as strong as the manly back of that alpha Adonis of Boston, who had become his lover in that casual horny encounter of one night.

Guillam continued powerfully attacking inside him while his hands patted each part of the naked body of the man who was possessing and the room was filled with their moans and gasps of pleasure with shortness of breath.

"Pete ahh... ahh...don't stop…ahh don't stop, harder," Dixon pleaded purring and contracting the muscles of his buttocks to maintain the erection of his lover in turn well inside him, Dixon felt his belly burned and his own erection was rubbing against Guillam's torso, the sexual encounter was driving him too crazy, almost felt to be being dominated in every way by Guillam. He had always enjoyed greatly make love with Guillam, they always had had very hot moments together in the bed and Guillam, despite his peaceful personality, showed always be a hot lover in bed who sated all his lusts, especially with an sex addict like Dixon but despite the sexual encounter was being even more pleasurable than all doses of sex they had enjoyed together since the beginning of their relationship, this time Dixon could not help but compare it with that delicious sex he had enjoyed to the point of madness with the alpha male Herculean of Boston.

Guillam satisfied him, drove him crazy with his thrusts and obscene caresses, Guillam knew every part of his body and how he liked to have intense sex, Guillam intoxicated him with his hot, deep kisses that left him breathless but nothing of that felt so damn well how it had felt being possessed by that sexy virile male with dark hair. Dixon was annoyed every time he opened his eyes and realized again that the man who was fucking him in frenzy that night was not the same sexy tan lover from America. And yet a reasonable part of his psyche told him he should not compare Guillam with the mysterious black-haired man of Boston, well after all Peter Guillam was fulfilling his purpose to lower his heat of that night.

At that time Dixon did not want to stop and consider his feelings for even wanted to convince himself that certainly still felt something strong for Guillam, would not think whether if it was affection or love and could not even consider if his feelings for him was just a kind of addiction for the good sex he gave him or if that could be a kind of co-dependency, the only thing that mattered at the moment was the fact that Guillam was providing him the dose of sex that he needed.

At one point, Guillam still being inside him, leaned close to his face looking back contact of his lips with his. A little hesitant, Dixon would not immediately correspond to kiss Guillam but soon gave back to the union of their lips and started kissing each other while Guillam again increase the attacks inside him. The delicious sex continued for a period longer until Guillam spilled his cum inside him and Dixon spotted them both with the explosion of his orgasm.

The lovers, panting and exhausted by the strenuous activity kissed again, it had been the best of their reconciliations that they had had and then gave a momentary rest before continuing a second round of sex in another position that this time they enjoyed on the warm carpet in the living room in front of the large window where could see well the high buildings of the city.

…

Dolarhyde had remained quiet and pensive for a long time, sitting on a hard wooden chair that was being increasingly uncomfortable. But his great inner unrest forced him to sit in the corner with the faraway look, it almost seemed that he had entered a kind of shock.

Now he was in a very small, modest apartment that he had achieved smoothly rent somewhere in New Jersey, he was always constantly moving to mislead the police.

The truth was that by just a couple of hours ago he had been talking to the infernal being that subjugated his mind and senses, he had been talking to the great Red Dragon after the ritual ceremony that daily did in front of the large, old and heavy Bible with leather-bound. This time he had read the part of revelations where the Apostle John had mentioned the beast from the sea. He understood that what the Red Dragon had said was true, he had not been done one with the dragon after all, there were other beasts that embodied evil and at the same time formed one, perhaps a kind of blasphemous analogy to the divine providence.

After reading that paragraph, Dolarhyde was immediately amazed. Imagined the beast out from the sea, with its seven heads with one of them mortally wounded and its absolute magnificence, he imagined all, he was greatly excited. After falling into the usual trance he had gotten an erection. But soon a feeling of panic invaded his chest. The paranoia of imagination from his dream warned him that surely the beast from the sea also has the purpose of harming him and if he really wanted to beat the red dragon he should also obtain the monstrous sea beast.

He could not help to put his hands on his head constantly in an effort to stop listening all those cavernous and hellish voices that began to emerge from his head one more time.

And while the infernal voices still were upsetting him, suddenly in his chaotic mind came the memory of Hector Dixon in the form of a burst of images which could lucidly spot their moments of unbridled lust in the dose of sex they had had together a couple of nights ago in Boston. Dolarhyde made an enormous effort to keep the sexual images within his consciousness, struggling for dominance against the Red Dragon who continued annoying him. In his hallucination, Dolarhyde thought suddenly that surely the mysterious sexy blond who he had possessed probably still was in Boston, far away from where he was.

"...The dude of golden hair. His name was Hector. Ha, oh his body was so wonderful, it was so wonderful...penetrate inside him, and his golden hair, his sweet voice begging me not to stop to fuck him, his narrow body, so warm, so live...his sharp eyes, no one had ever looked at me in that way, no one had ever kissed me like that ...his burning lips attached to mine ...the man clothing with the Sun" Dolarhyde mumbled continuously falling prey to delirium, and the annoying Red Dragon still persisted in his grotesque gasps, the cursed Red Dragon would not shut because he didn't want to leave him alone, the Red Dragon didn't want to let him remember with pleasure the wonderful sexual encounter he had had with the mysterious blond whose name he could not stop saying.

But now Dolarhyde was appeased, the fearful voices that tormented him had stopped to talk a while ago, but could not get out of his mind the idea that after all had not mastered the dragon nor merge completely with the evil.

 _"Haha, do you think you've defeated me? You think you can be stronger and smarter than me, small impotent loser? You've just been a filthy dreamer who cannot even get an erection, if you cannot catch you at a living person much less you can defeat me, you small filth. For that reason your parents didn't wish you, for that your grandmother hated you, so nobody never loved you and nobody loves you now. Reba doesn't want a monster like you're at her side. Nobody wants to be by your side...you're a loser and a sexual impotent.. and you cannot kill me, Francis, because the evil of the universe is channeled not only in the Red Dragon, my powers do not come only from a banal piece of art of Blake ...my immense malevolence emanates not only from that ridiculous engraving that you devoured in the museum...you're a fucking sexually impotent...you're a damn loser...filth…garbage...loser, you fucking dross"_

Suddenly evil voices had return to whisper heavily from his dark schizophrenic psyche, buzzing in his ears, becoming louder progressively. Dolarhyde couldn't stand it anymore, those derogatory annoying shouts echoed throughout his mind and soon he began to feel a severe headache.

"Noo! I'm not a loser!...I'm not a damn impotent!...¡no, you can't against me, you can't hurt the ones I love!, I ate you, now you're in my fucking stomach, filthy beast! Now you are part of me!" Dolarhyde snapped continuously, he was now kneeling on the floor; his hands remained on his head in a failed attempt to stop listening to those terrible voices that increasingly were becoming more recurrent and lasting. But despite his efforts, the beast kept saying its derogatory phrases.

Soon the erection between his legs began to soften up again, leaving his member flaccid again. Dolarhyde felt that this was a kind of defeat, the Dragon had mastered his sexual power again at will, always it had to be the same, in the same way the Red Dragon gave him vigorous sexual power that raised his heat, the dragon also could remove it with ease.

 _"You're a fool if you think you'll live such a pleasurable experience like that again, Francis. And look at you now, you've become a stupid fagot. But even so fuck the guy of golden hair was just a fluke, you will not to see him never again Francis, and he probably even doesn't remember you, maybe now he's in bed with another man, having real sex, he's now with a real man who fucks him so well, because you're not even a man, you're a monster, you're a loser and a sexual impotent, maybe that night of casual sex you had with him you had to use an object to penetrate him because you are a sexual impotent, you cannot maintain an erection .. it's all part of yours stupid delirium Francis..."_

"Nooo! Shut the hell up stupid Dragon! The man clothing in sun is my complement, my other half... the Red Dragon must master it, the red dragon that with its tail shed a sea of stars that will destroy the Earth."

 _"Your grandmother hated you"_

"The man clothing in Sun...wears a crown of stars" Dolarhyde mumbling with calmer voice.

 _"Your mother abandoned you"_

"Underfoot it is a moon..."

 _"Your father chose to die crushed, reduced to a disgusting bloody mass before to see the birth of his deformed child"_

"The Red Dragon suddenly stopped in front of him..."

 _"You remember all the animals you killed in your childhood, Francis? You were always a monster"_

The tangled mind of Dolarhyde began to lose more and more the sense of his delusions. He could not realize the moment his consciousness gave the total mastery of the Red Dragon until his body slumped unconscious on the floor. The infernal voices stopped at last to resonate but Dolarhyde already had lost his consciousness.

…

Dixon and Guillam had enjoyed together their pleasant night full of lust and now the two lovers had shared the bed to sleep one more time. Early in the morning, Dixon was the first to wake up, still naked on his luxurious bed next to the man who had made him love the night before. When Dixon sat up approached him for fiddling a little Guillam's bare chest with his fingers, outlining some circles to awake him.

But seeing him there naked next to him Dixon could not help but return to make comparisons with something that never happened, but he imagined how it would have been fiddling in that sensual way over the naked manly chest of that sexy alpha of Boston if only he had awakened at his side the morning after their passionate doses of sex together.

Dixon had always liked waking up with Guillam next to him in his own bed, but the idea of doing as well with the dark-haired Adonis haunted him greatly, he could not get it out of his mind... but the bastard had fled from the suite that morning without warning.

And though he tried to hide it certainly felt a little annoyed that his lover in turn was not the sexy dark-haired man, but his ex. He could almost think that now Guillam had referred to as a gizmo of his life, because in fact they had not yet spoken of reconciliation and therefore he could not call him boyfriend.

"Wake up ...Pete" muttered Dixon whispering with sensual tone. Guillam awakened to his call by, opening his blue eyes slowly and meeting immediately with Dixon's gaze who was smirking as well with his usual white smile. Noticing that, Guillam awoke and looked at him, Dixon smiled even more with his characteristic malice and Guillam unexpectedly approached his face to steal a quick kiss on his lips. At the touch of his lips to his, Dixon stroked Guillam's chest with more intent, but his lips were certainly hesitant to continue kissing him.

"Good morning, Hec" seductive Guillam sputtered, trying to kiss his lips again. Dixon then pulled back and sat on the edge of the bed, this time his annoyance could not pass too unnoticed.

"Listen ...I do not know how the hell we should call all this, that is... we were separated for several weeks and you know exactly how was our stupid argument," Dixon said in a deep voice and bypassing the look.

"Hec, come on! I'm not an idiot, I know well your way to reconcile... I know how you love to be fucked so hard..." Guillam whispered approaching him from behind, caressing his bare back and slightly nibbling one of his ears.

"But you also know how exasperates me your stupidity... so we discussed then and after that I really did not want to see your damn face..." Dixon snapped rough, trying to resist the tingling pleasure that caused the bites of Guillam who had now begun to caress his body in obscene way under the covers.

"Maybe you did not want to see my damn face but you have always wanted to feel my hard cock inside you..." Guillam said cynically, in a hoarse voice near his ear.

"ha, you know perfectly that I can get any fucking cock of any man I please, when I want. I don't need you Peter... you can go right now to the damn hell and rot there with all your dirtiness" pronounced Dixon with expression of false flattery, irrefutable sign of his sarcasm.

But Guillam was accustomed to the harsh behavior of Dixon and he knew he could exercise good and quick nod at him, because he knew the greatest weakness of Dixon and in form a little egocentric Guillam believed that he could please him fully with good sex, he always could drive him crazy with pleasure. Besides, seeing Dixon angry made him feel more excited.

"Oh honey, but no man knows how to make you see the stars of pleasure as I do..." mumbled Guillam with high pride, with more intention nibbling his ear and licking his earlobe.

Dixon could feel the warm breath of Guillam in his ear, and the way he began to masturbate him made him desist of it again, but was not willing to be tempted to be submitted by him as easily without before saying to Guillam that he was wrong, because actually he had managed to find another lover, a sexy man much more manly than him and who had slept with him in United States.

"Haha how stupid you are, Pete, of course there is. Do not think you're the best bloody man who has been on my bed. You know? In fact actually only two nights ago a real alpha male took me in his arms, made me his wildly on the bed in my suite... that was a real man, an alpha male with a bigger cock and much more functional than yours" Dixon said unabashedly, smiled a mocking smile on his lips and almost immediately a groan of pleasure escaped from his voice because at that moment Guillam had squeezed his cock with more severity, he was exasperated by such confession.

"I see you're still a damn promiscuous Dixon, you can never resist to be fucked by any man that you want... I think you deserve to be punished," muttered Guillam hoarsely, mixing his growing morning excitement and annoyance of knowing Dixon always ended sleeping with other men.

"Ahh Pete...stop... damn it..." Dixon mumbled imploring a bit, though in fact he certainly did not want Guillam stopped, because Guillam always managed to make him the best of masturbations no doubt.

"I won't stop Hec, I said you deserve to be punished for being a naughty boy..." he whispered in response Guillam and immediately made Dixon capsized on the bed, making he showed his butt to him, Guillam was taller and stronger than him and without pity or previous dilation, Guillam began to penetrate him without giving him time to get used to the sudden invasion.

"Ahh, you bastard!" Dixon snapped and then moaned, wincing on his face, feeling the rigid phallus of his lover ramming hard inside him. The masturbation that Guillam had done him had done his cock were completely hard as well.

"You love to be fucked hard, you cannot complain now," said Guillam excited, increasing the power of the attacks, masturbating obscenely the already hard member of Dixon, and constantly beating his buttocks with his hands to make them get red.

"You're a bloody bastard, Peter!" Dixon said laughable, his evil smile showed that greatly he enjoyed the outrage. Their bodies returned to indulge in unbridled lust, as if there were no a next time when they could repeat, but with the position they were doing and because of the humiliation that Guillam was trying to exercise, Dixon did not stop fantasizing that who was fucking him this time was the strong sexy dark-haired man. And just thinking about that man with that sexy tattoo, Dixon was able to reach orgasm.

…

When Dolarhyde woke it was morning. The chirping of birds outside his window made him open his eyes slowly to fully awaken from his slumber. He sat up, first kneeling down on the floor. His chin ached, probably he had struck with the floor due the sudden fall.

When he finally got up he headed for the small room that now he used as a temporary bedroom. He was still a little confused, but felt luckily because the infernal voices were not bothering him again. Suddenly his eyes fell on his reflection in the mirror that had acquired a week ago and had been shattered as a result of his usual ritual. The mirrors were dimensional doorways, so the Dragon could take him by surprise and enter through to his world out there during a full moon night.

Being front, Dolarhyde saw the reflection of his own face in broken glass, fixing his gaze for a moment at the scar on his upper lip, unquestionable mark of his birth condition that would make him always remember for posterity that after all the Dragon was right, his cleft lip had been the cause of parental abandonment and rejection of others. He was a monster.

But it did not matter now, all those ones that had repudiated him were already deservedly dead and now his main purpose was to be an end to what had started, be one with the dragon, become it, merge with its infernal powers and thus dominate the cruel world where he was born.

Dolarhyde went to the bathroom and there in the sink washed his face. He looked again at his reflection in the oval mirror over the wall, that was the only mirror in his house he had decided not to break because of his stubborn obsession, and again looked closely at the scar on his face. With a couple of fingers of the right hand he felt for a brief moment his own lips while looking at his own look in reflection in the mirror He remembered how his lips had kissed frantically the warm soft lips of that blond man who had possessed, recalled the drunkenness of his kisses, the union of their bodies. He had possessed that man with his potency of alpha male, he had actually done that even if the dragon tried to persuade him of the contrary. He had even ejaculated inside him, he had done that twice and that had been the alienation of his total ecstasy. He had penetrated another man becoming one with him, never before had done, never before had been considered do it but he could not repent of it and the increasing desire to meet the blond again increased with the passing of the minutes and hours. Certainly he would travel to Boston early in the morning to seek and possess him again.

After taking a shower, Dolarhyde prepared to carry out the ritual he had done with strict regularity since some time ago. He dressed only in his kimono watching some home movies randomly of happy families that one day would be available to victimize. The dragon had not bothered him during that day, maybe had managed to master it, perhaps for that reason, this was a day in which he was being incarnate in the red dragon itself.

Dolarhyde tried to enjoy the home movies he had just acquired, families looked too happy there, he hated that so much and only increased his anger and impatience to return to perpetrate a crime. But soon his distraction was overshadowed by the vivid memory of the blond man who had slept two nights ago. He recalled what the blond had caused him when he had boldly starting to squeeze his manhood on his pants, he recalled how his own big hands then began to caress obscenely every part of his bare skin and how he had made him of his. And especially he remembered every moan from his sweet voice, he had never heard such melodious voice of another man of his age. Dolarhyde knew the blond despite his refined delicacy certainly should not be a man too young, surely Dixon was a similar age to his.

He could not help get excited again and his member rose in a thick erection while the images on the reflector still projecting in its monochrome tone, as much he loved, because the lack of color giving it a retro touch that made him feel in the past, a distant past that ever lived.

In his mind he could not fade the image of the blond's body arching under his hands because of pleasure, moving under his male body. And then he began to masturbate himself to calm his erection, caressing his penis in its entirety to the tip of his dripping glans. The Dragon was wrong, he was not a sexual impotent, he could maintain an erection, he was full of sexual power, and he was the Red Dragon now.

The home movie stopped, and just when that ended Dolarhyde had achieved the pinnacle of a pleasurable orgasm, had ejaculated over his own hands, always thinking of the blond of beautiful gray eyes.

Dolarhyde stood at the end of the couch where he had pleasured himself, was wild with desire to reencounter with the golden-haired man named Hector. He girded his Kimono around his waist and went to the bathroom, he needed another shower. He would sleep early tonight to go back to Boston early in the morning.

After taking a second shower, Dolarhyde went to his special room where he had placed his personal sanctuary. Even with wet hair, he stood in front of the Great Bible in _combat_ position, as the Great Dragon is about to subjugate all creatures of God, and dropped the kimono to the floor, sliding down by his bare skin, exposing the majestic tattoo on his back.

Dolarhyde went into a trance, again feeling his soul synchronized with the evil, being one, he was the red dragon, the snake that also is Satan and was aware that he now had enough power conferred to envision everything what John the apostle had witnessed about the revelations of the apocalypse.

His big old Bible showed the page that just had opened his eyes to the truth. Beneath the newspaper clippings, that drafted the news on the front page of _The Tattler_ exposing the escape of the _Red Dragon_ and his obsessive connection with Dr. Hannibal Lecter, it could read that paragraph that read the revelation of the beast out of the sea.

 _"And the dragon stood on the sand of the seashore. Then I saw a beast coming up out of the sea, having ten horns and seven heads, and on his horns were ten diadems, and on his heads were blasphemous names."_

After reading the revelation, again, again and again, Dolarhyde felt amazed, his eyes twinkling in amazement at the image plotting his dream imagination.

 _"And they worshiped the dragon which gave power unto the beast: and they worshiped the beast, saying, Who is like the beast? Who can fight against it?_

If the Red Dragon had conferred powers to the beast that could only mean that the beast itself should also be part of the Red Dragon, and everyone should worship it and kneel before him. He knew that he should to be close to the beast, he should also possess it.

After leaving his trance, Dolarhyde hastily left his home to find a place where to find out more about other paintings of William Blake. He was invaded by the heightened excitement again to know if Blake had been able to peer into his mind again, the cursed painter always got it.

In a small local library, Dolarhyde could take a borrowed computer and soon he was searching on the internet browser the names and works of Blake. In the images that threw the search, Dolarhyde could see for the first time the magnificence of the Red Dragon and the Beast from the Sea, wonderful and distinctly unique work of Blake. The famous English poet and painter had managed to spy back into his schizophrenic mind.

Dolarhyde had been stunned by such an image, the strokes and splashes of Blake had managed to capture perfectly what Dolarhyde had imagined during his trance. His eyes remained fixed, unblinking, on the computer monitor showing the image of the work in watercolor. He was again invaded by ecstasy, rapture unnerved his imagination. Suddenly, seized again in his own delusions he could see himself in the body of the Red Dragon on the painting, dominating the beast out of the sea, giving his infernal powers to it to destroy the children of the Lamb.

Dolarhyde could feel alive in the work, as if he could cross the dimension in the picture.

His occupation time on the computer ended after a while and the librarian kindly asked him to vacate the machine. Dolarhyde obeyed without saying a word and looked at the man with false kindness, always managed to go unnoticed, no one suspected him. No one could ever think that this kind quiet man was a cruel serial murderer prey to his own mental illness.

Leaving the library, Dolarhyde was touching often the USB flash drive that he kept in the pocket of his jacket. In the device he had kept the image of that other magnificent work of Blake in a good resolution. He was intended to project it on the wall of his living room when he got home and leave it like maybe for the rest of the night while sleeping to start well his day early morning when he would return to Boston to reunite with the wealthy blond.

"I will find you soon Hector, you'll be one with the Dragon" murmured continually absorbed.

…

Dixon had called Fabian to talk a little about what had happened during his absence in London. Certainly Dixon had not been in America too long but maybe there was always the possibility that something important happened. It had been only a day since the sexual reunion he had had with Guillam and even he still felt not so sure for how he should call everything that had happened between them. Their reunion had become only sexual, neither had tried to talk about their relationship and possible feelings that connected them, if they still exist, though in truth talk about what were their true feelings for each other had always been difficult. Recalling that Guillam had possessed him in that wild way, Dixon felt a kind of contempt resurface in his chest, which only provoked the feelings that had joined him to Guillam will erode further. He was angry with him, but he also knew that he had been who took the initiative to use him as any lover like those who he rented in homosexual brothels. But Guillam had been for him more than an alpha male of his possession, Guillam had been his partner, and that made him totally different from the other men with who he had had sex.

And the memory of Dolarhyde was obsessing him increasingly. So for today he would try to stop thinking about the damn Peter Guillam and better focus on other issues.

Now Dixon was within his personal office, and was accompanied by his right hand and his friend for years.

"that damned politician bothers me too much, Fabian, I eliminated his biggest goal and the asshole showed total apathy towards me, as if I would provoke him disgust ... ha oh well if so, I hope he can understand that the feeling is mutual," Dixon said annoyed, while randomly changing channels on TV.

Fabian was standing on the side of the chair where Dixon was sitting, it was day and out the sun radiated a gentle climate so Dixon had taken off his jacket and black gloves he loved to use.

"I've heard he's a narcissist and I think the man is also a declared homophobic" said Fabian.

"And maybe that means he also has a kind of sixth sense to realize with whom someone have sex? Haha indeed perhaps something made him realize how much I like men, maybe for that reason he hated me at the end" Dixon said, smiling with satire. Fabian gave a chuckle and sat in the opposite chair.

"Well we cannot be sure... just it occurred to me to point out that, because just this morning I found that statement on his website," said Fabian.

Dixon smiled and looked at him for a moment, then turned to pay attention to the LED screen to continue changing channels.

"Well that has only made me hate him even more, but one day he'll pay me" muttered Dixon.

"I understand how you must feel, Dixon, but you'll take your chance to take revenge with that stupid man" Fabian said with satire.

"You're right, haha but look at all those stupid! Posing for the camera with their face jerks as if they were heroes of humanity, with their false hypocrisy, proud hiding the opulence in which they live and which they request kill their enemies hiring hitmen like me to do their dirty work. But hey Fabian, I cannot complain after all because I enjoy doing this and I am also too well-paid" explained Dixon while watching with mocking laughter the channel that was transmitting political news.

"That's true Dixon, so you have everything you want and when you want" Fabian said, smiling.

"Oh yes, you're right, but there are things that come singly, or maybe I'm very lucky," he said Dixon smiling sassy, again in his mind only the memory of the dark-haired man of Boston could appear, and the memory of his blue eyes staring with anger and excitement at his. At the memory, Dixon bit his own bottom lip slightly.

"Well, you've been skilled enough to create your own fortune..."

"Well yes, but maybe this time I mean another kind of luck. You know Fabian? I met a wonderful virile man in Boston, of course he was in my bed...we had delicious hard sex" the blond said with a wan smile on his face sketched.

"Well, but you always find the best men always get the ones you want" Fabian said letting out a chuckle.

Despite his statement, Fabian showed no so surprised, after all Dixon had slept with too many men that they had even lost count.

But when Dixon again mentioned that, his remarkable emotion was evident, then Fabian knew that alpha man had made much impression on his boss.

"No Fabian, that man in particular was different, you know I've always gotten the best sex with men but this time I felt a kind of connection with him that I cannot even explain. That man made me feel totally dominated in every way, I was intrigued with his eyes, with his muscular body, with his deep, masculine voice, his hair dark as night... and that sexy tattoo on his back. His name is John Bateman" said Dixon.

"By the way you express that, I imagine how good it was to spend a night with this man, but how is it possible that Hector Dixon was able to blurt out the man of his hands?" Fabian asked curious.

"Well, everything happened so fast and impulsive, but it was as glorious as it had never felt with anyone, and when I woke up he was no longer at my side," Dixon said recalling how he had awakened alone in bed in the suite.

"Did not you offer him money?" Fabian asked again.

"I did, I was willing to pay a large sum of money when I saw him for the first time in a city library, but even that did not avoid he left the suite so, without warning. He did not steal any of my stuff, the whole room was intact."

"Oh, Dixon! That almost sounds as if it had been a dream," he said Fabian doing a sigh at the end of his speech.

"Haha I know, I also like to think of something like that sometimes, but it was not. It was real. When I woke up I could still feel his semen inside me, plus he marked my skin, as if I were of him" Dixon said boldly, never avoided to mention all the details of his sex nights, Fabian was his assistant and his best friend.

Fabian laughed at the shameless confession of his boss, though he was used to hear Dixon always talked that way he sometimes kept admired his daring way of being.

"Hey wait a moment Hec, does that mean you had sex with a stranger without protection?" Fabian asked intrigued.

"Oh it was all so impulsive, I began to provoke him a little and suddenly the bastard took me in his arms, savagely he undressed me and made me of him while I could not resist."

"But he does not stop being a stranger..."

"Yes, but I do not really care, and I greatly enjoyed feeling the explosion of his orgasm inside me. And as I said, he had a very sexy tattoo on the muscular, manly back... that I scratched when I clung to him, he was so wild" Dixon said, suddenly licking his own lips.

"Well I guess you're thinking back to Boston to find that manly tan lover, isn't?" suggested Fabian, with mischievous smile.

"Yes, of course I will, I'll hire a detective if it's necessary to find him by any means. I'll get the tan sexy man sleeps with me again even if I have to pay a fortune or kill anyone. But unfortunately for now I cannot travel to the US, I cannot raise suspicions in the police. It is not convenient to travel there for the next few days so I'll have to wait a couple of weeks but impatience corrodes me inside," he said the blond, saying thin his excitement had decreased significantly.

"Be patient my dear Hec, when you can return you'll find that alpha male without problems, I know," Fabian said, smiling.

"and I will not let he slips from my hands, I swear by the life of that disgusting filthy rat" Dixon said, smiling cynically, referring to the same politician who had hired him precisely to travel to Boston and that was showed at that moment on TV. The politician was smiling for the camera in Dixon's LED television when he was interviewed by a reporter seriously.

"And by the way, what about Peter?" Fabian asked.

Dixon grimaced in annoyance.

"for me that bastard can go to hell."

…

 **Final note:** I finally updated, after several months, I regret the terribly delay but hey I hope you enjoyed this new chapter even a little ;)

As always I apologize if I made mistakes, really sorry.

Things are very intense in this story, you'll see what will happen in future chapters, you will see the reunion of Dolarhyde and Dixon, the link with Hannibal Lecter and how Dolarhyde will continue to fight his schizophrenia. Besides surely Guillam will not let so easy the way to Dolarhyde for I have decided to leave a little aside his peaceful personality and take the liberty to make him more competitive and jealous of course.

I regret that this chapter has not really had Dolarhyde / Dixon because now they are separated but meanwhile the whole concept is reduced to their sexual fantasies and other wet dreams.

Unfortunately I was not able to put the Hannigram, in fact I've had to cut that part since the last chapter to not do the longest chapter but soon it will also happen xD and would be as well fiery.

Well, all your comments are always welcome! :v /


	4. Obsession

**Chapter 4— Obsession**

"Wait, Hector...Do not you care about your relationship with Guillam anymore?" Fabian asked confusedly and giggling nervously after Dixon referred to Peter Guillam in that contemptuous way. Fabian knew Dixon too well and knew that he was one of the hardest and coldest men he could ever meet, and that to express himself in any way was not unusual, but he was also aware that his boss was human and he himself had witnessed the feelings and the great passion that Peter Guillam had awakened in him since the beginning of their relationship. Since the beginning of their relationship as lovers, Fabian had been convinced that Dixon really had very strong feelings for Guillam because even only for him he had been faithful for some time and knew that although they often argued they always returned to be together. But this time, from the way Dixon was referring to Guillam; Fabian could sense that he was being serious. Maybe Guillam was no longer the main object of Hector's whim. Maybe he was really getting too fond of the mysterious man he'd had sex with in Boston.

"Did not you hear what I said? For me, that bastard can go to hell!" Dixon reiterated, turning to see Fabian with a fixed and piercing stare and a broad smile that showed his perfect teeth.

"I thought there had been reconciliation, that is, this morning when I called you, I was able to listen to Guillam's voice in the background and..." said Fabian.

"Oh yeah, we spent the night together, we had hard sex because I called him just for that. Yesterday I was too sexually thirsty and had no intention of hiring a man. So the imbecile Guillam had been stalking me for days, leaving messages in my phone mailbox until I was tired of hear and also in the end I was tired of self-pleasing me. I needed to feel a real man cock, hot and throbbing inside me and I called him. I called him to use him for that, to lower my fever a little I've been too hot since I was with that macho in Boston Haha and I also called Guillam to save me money, you know Guillam is too cheap, you know... But there was no reconciliation between the bastard Guillam and me...we do not clarify anything about the stupid arguments that led us to separate all these weeks," Dixon said with determination and satire.

"That means it was just casual sex...Guillam did not insist on reconciliation, or did you want to break everything with him?" inquired Fabian.

"It was casual sex, like I said I just called him for that, to have sex. In the morning the damn idiot fucked me again, but this time I did not ask for it. I got it almost by force under the shower. I was even angry with him. He always gets irritated me, but I do not deny that I enjoy that domination. I still get mad at him. When you called me I was running him from my house," Dixon explained.

"Oh, so I'm sorry for the interruption," Fabian said, a little self-conscious but laughable. Dixon smiled briefly.

"Ah, do not worry. As I answered the phone, I aimed a pistol at him and he finally left. "

"And... about the guy you met in Boston... do you have any more information? I do not think you have even asked his name," said Fabian smiling with mischief. He was being ironic, he knew perfectly well that his boss could never miss something as important as that.

Dixon smiled at him with his wide white smile.

"His name is John Bateman, and... I must say that this morning while Guillam fucked me, I imagined it was the dark-haired Adonis who did it," Dixon said, licking his lips. He felt some heat begin to take hold of his crotch. Fabian smiled. He always loved to hear his boss talking to that imprudence.

"Without doubt the Bostonian of US has become your new whim," Fabian said in a tone of complicity.

"Haha, he will be my new toy, I swear, Fabian. It was so easy to provoke him and get what I wanted from him, and I'm pretty sure he enjoyed it as much as I did. It was the best sex I've ever had in my life" Dixon said, licking his lips as he remembered how Dolarhyde had been taking him with savagery.

"But... then why did he run away without telling you anything, without waiting for you to wake up and not get paid?" Fabian asked, he really could not understand.

"That's the strangest thing, but it does not matter. I'll find him, and he will be mine again," Dixon said decisively and with a malicious look, he was totally ready for it.

"It will be interesting to see how my great boss Hector Dixon gets back an American man," Fabian added exclaiming.

"I'll bring him to London to live with me," said Dixon, smiling.

"Oh, really? That would be really exciting!" Fabian said in amazement.

"Yes, moreover... I must say that his sexy manly voice had a kind of Irish accent, I would have liked to know more about him... to know his age, his interests, his occupation. It is a little frustrating to know that we could only meet in bed."

"You'll get the chance, Hector. You always get what you want," Fabian said, smiling at his boss. It was not just a compliment, Fabian was really quite sure of it.

….

Early in the morning, Francis Dolarhyde began to get ready to leave. Although it had not been a good night for him, he had suffered unexpected insomnia because of his great anxiety, he did not want to delay his purpose any longer. He had set out to leave for Boston at dawn, driving the new pickup he had bought in exchange for selling the old one.

As he drove down the road, he could not stop his eagerness to come and meet again with the blond Hector Dixon that gradually increased with the passing of the minutes. He had prepared everything he needed to spend in Boston enough time to find him, though he felt fairly certain it would not take him too long to do so. Something told him in his subconscious that being the great Red Dragon something like meeting the blond again seemed to be ridiculously easy.

Dolarhyde drove down the road for three hours until he had to stop the truck at a gas station to load the fuel. Fortunately since he had woken up that morning, the voices in his head had not appeared again to disturb him. This was one of those lucid days when he could concentrate better, even though the madness in his mind remained constant because he had gradually deteriorated his reasoning and sometimes failed to understand and differentiate what was right and what was evil within a society with well-established political, ethical and moral laws.

But this morning he was strangely much more aware than usual that he must be much more cautious about being seen too much because the spoken portrait with his supposed face continued to circulate in all the country's headquarters and newspapers, and anyone could recognize him. Although this portrait was not faithful, it was clear of his scar on the upper lip, as well as other characteristic features, so that now almost all the time he wore dark glasses, and even tried to articulate the words in his voice so that he could conceal his accustomed hiss and slightly Irish accent, because of the family where he had been born.

With each passing minute, Dolarhyde felt that his exasperation was becoming unbearable. But there were still more than 100 miles to Boston and a little more to get specifically to that luxurious hotel where the blond had taken him to his suite. As he loaded gasoline into his vehicle, in his mind passed a sea of ideas, images and retrospective concepts in which he not only thought about the blond Dixon but also imagined the idea of being with him again in careless debauchery while the images of his old projector were played on the wall. He had brought the movie projector with him, it was well stored in a metal box he had placed in one of the rear seats. He was anxious to use it and carry out his task, and of course he was anxious because some of those projected images were the iconographies of Blake's works he had just discovered.

Finally he finished filling the fuel tank of his van but before leaving the place and continue his way, decided to buy some things in the store that was established next to. He had to get into the bathroom, he had to calm down a little the heat that had awakened in his crotch because of the sea of lustful delusions that had machined in his mind as he remembered the blond Dixon as had been filling the gas tank.

As soon as he was able to free himself a little of his erection in the bathroom, he went back to the establishment and thought it might be a good idea to buy some things for the trip. He took some snacks and non-intoxicating drinks and then headed for the magazines and newspapers. He thought that being Tuesday should have the famous magazine _The Tattler_ , his favorite, and should already be on the shelf, despite the possibilities were reduced because the site looked quite desolate and no county or houses were visible in the surroundings.

Luck seemed to be on his side because despite the possibility that they did not sell the new El Tattler number in that place, as soon as he approached to review the magazines he realized that indeed the new number of the week was there. Because of the conditions and the smell of new ink, he could immediately realize that it was the number that had come out a few hours ago, even before reading the date of publication. Dolarhyde took the magazine in his hands, anxiously gazing at the cover for a moment, as the scent of the new magazine rose to his face. He took a quick glance at the date of the publication, the same date of that day, and immediately began to leaf through it, for from just seeing his cover he had begun to feel excited again to himself.

He noticed that several of the publications of that day were extremely interesting and more than that, appealing, since new notes had been written about crimes, some of them frightening and other sections where people were talking about missing persons. Thinking that such lost people might now be dead made him even more frenetic, his schizophrenic mind instantly engineered a thousand ways in which each of them could have been massacred. He licked his lips a little to imagine that he might even have been the perpetrator himself, and even at a moment he tried to remember if for some reason he had forgotten that in fact he had indeed been. He thought that perhaps this excitement had made him forget his latest victims, so for a brief span of minutes he looked closely at the photographs of the missing persons. Until one of the shopkeepers spoke to him, making him out of his reverie.

"Sir, may I help you?" Something wrong?" asked the attendant to Dolarhyde, had been a little worried because Dolarhyde seemed disturbed to read the notes of that publication. The reality was far from it, Dolarhyde was not disturbed, he was immersed in his own inner ecstasy and could almost feel oppression again in his zipper.

But in spite of his great fantasy, Dolarhyde was not irritated by his interruption, and on the contrary he responded with kindness, though with a little expression.

"No, I was just reading the headlines of this magazine. I think I'll take it," he said succinctly and headed for the box with everything and the magazine in hand and the other products he wanted to buy. Dolarhyde made the corresponding payment and withdrew from the place. As he had wished, he had not raised suspicions in any of the few employees of the place. None of them had imagined that he actually was a dangerous serial killer that the police had been searching fervently for weeks, and without trouble, being out, Dolarhyde boarded his van again and continued driving for a few more miles until near to some County had decided to stop for a moment. He was not tired of driving but he felt a great need to read the new The Tattler number he had bought a few minutes ago.

At the side of the road, having parked the vehicle, and after taking a bit of a revitalizing drink, began to read The Tattler carefully. He had to keep checking the content that had been published in the magazine that morning and it was then that in one of the publications he saw an incident that had aroused his interest more than usual a few days ago, much more than notes like that commonly did. In the publication they had written the news about the cold-blooded murder of the British politician who had been killed by some lone murderer inside the luxurious hotel where he was staying.

He remembered that the blond man he had met had been reading with interest the newspaper that announced the news that time in the Boston Herald. He had to head back there, maybe there the blond man he had possessed could come back at any moment.

Dolarhyde set off again. Ever since he had started the engine of his van, his mind had filled with memories of that sex night with Hector Dixon. He remembered his voice, sweet and provocative, and remembered his words where he'd told him his purpose of having taken him to his suite that night to have sex together and that he was willing to pay a large sum of money in exchange for it.

 _"I'll make you a good pay"_

Dolarhyde kept his eyes in front of the wheel and in front of his way, but those words were something that resonated in his thoughts recurrently. And in the end he had not received that pay, in the end he had decided to flee the luxurious room without saying a word and the reason was that at that moment he had felt afraid, afraid of himself.

Now he was extremely repentant of it, he did not even want to admit it altogether because he hated to feel frustrated but the truth was that that morning after waking up in the great bed of the suite next to Hector Dixon that still slept naked next to him, had remembered that one of the things of Dixon that had captivated him almost immediately had been his perfect smile, and from that moment Dolarhyde had imagined that after assassinating him, as he had originally considered, he would have to tear him off his teeth to then after keep his macabre prize in a small wooden box, as part of his strange collection.

But then he'd really enjoyed that delicious and unexpected dose of sex with him, something he'd never imagined experimenting with any man and he could not repent because it had been really wonderful. He had had sex with a living being, had experienced the warmth of his body imprisoning his and had made him scream with pleasure. Hector Dixon was alive and his skin burned with ecstasy under his manly hands that he had explored with obscene caresses. Dolarhyde had struck him with all the power conferred by the great Red Dragon, they had been one even if their bodies were biologically and sexually equal.

But not even all those pleasurable sensations could have been able to stop him, at that moment Dolarhyde had really had a terrible fear of thinking that the fury of the great Red Dragon that was inside could make him kill Dixon right there on the bed. And yet in the twisted schizophrenic mind of Dolarhyde there was still some sanity that made him realize the boundaries between what was right and what could be fatal. Strangely something in his mind told him that if he killed the sexy blond stranger who was sleeping naked next to him, later he could repent.

But his instincts might betray him at any moment, and that had been why, that morning, Dolarhyde barely took his clothes and dressed himself quickly when outside the sun was not even out yet, and as soon as he was dressed he fled from that place, without stopping to look again behind. At no point was he interested in the money Dixon offered him, or any of the valuable items he could bring with him in that luxurious suite. Dolarhyde simply left the building and took a taxi to the apartment he had been renting in Boston that day.

But since that incident, several days had passed and now Dolarhyde was driving on the road in order to meet Hector Dixon again.

Dolarhyde drove for another hour until the end of Boston. He was exhausted and more exasperated, he regretted that he had decided to move abruptly to New Jersey, but he had to do so because his neighbors in Boston had begun to suspect that he was in fact a dangerous subject. Although the police did not have a real photograph of him and although the spoken portrait they had made was not too similar to him, it had been well described that one of the physical characteristics of the murderer was the singular scar on his upper lip, A vestige that he had been born with a cleft lip.

As soon as Dolarhyde arrived in Boston, he immediately went to the luxurious hotel where Dixon had stayed. He inquired for him again, but just as on that occasion the staff and the manager told him that no one by that name had stayed that time.

"You have to show me your security cameras!" Said Dolarhyde a little insistently, his gaze was extremely intimidating and his frown began to disturb the managers.

"No sir, we are not allowed to do that. We ask you to please do not keep insisting and leave now" said the attendant in a serious but nervous voice, Dolarhyde managed to impose great fear and therefore the manager was ready to act immediately The alarm for the security guards to attack him if necessary. For his part, Dolarhyde felt such exasperation that he was short of his control, but in the end he resisted and managed to accept, as a normal person, that he would not receive such information from the hotel.

Without saying more, but even looking at him austerely, Dolarhyde turned and left the place. He was very annoyed, and too anxious not to achieve his goal yet. He wondered if it might be possible to find the blond named Hector Dixon in that immense city, made him even more uneasy about how difficult it would be to do so when the streets at that hour were so crowded.

"He lied to me about his name... his name is not Hector..." Dolarhyde muttered over and over again to himself. He felt a bit betrayed, mocked. At times he considered that perhaps all this foolish pursuit might be useless, but soon the dark and twisted side of his scene reminded him that the ideology revealed by the great scriptures of his old bible could not be wrong, nor could those wonderful sensations be wrong which the blond man clothing with the sun had made him experience that night.

Hector, or whatever he was called, had to be his at any cost.

Dolarhyde picked up his van again, and this time he headed for the Boston Herald newspaper, the place where they had first met fate for the first time. Maybe there he could find much better information. He thought that if fate, and the revelations of the apocalypse had made them inevitably drawn in that place, it must be a kind of sacred ground. Going to the Boston Herald could not fail.

He drove for a few minutes, was surprised to find the road quickly and quickly to the building that served as a collection of important newspapers, and as soon as he was inside he went to one of the managers to ask for the blond man named Hector Dixon.

"He is blond, thin, short, about 40 years old like me. He was here reading a newspaper like this a few days ago," Dolarhyde explained to the manager while was showing him the cut of the front page showing the crime that Dixon had perpetrated.

The manager was confused, he did not know how to answer his questions, and certainly the presence of Dolarhyde made him very uneasy, because he could scarcely conceal that he was desperate to know the whereabouts of the aforementioned middle-aged blond man.

"Sir, to this place come many blond men of middle age, of short stature and who read our diaries of the day, that we always have of sample in the desks... besides to say truth we do not pay much attention in the physical appearance of the people" The manager began to say calmly. But Dolarhyde was not as calm as he was, and he frowned a little more.

"Please, remember!" asked Dolarhyde insistent and energetic. The man adjusted his spectacles a little and looked up again at Dolarhyde.

"Mmmh... could you give me more specific details..." the man asked.

"Is a blond man, bushy eyebrows but just as blond, delicate body and nice face, gentle and formal... and he is British" said Dolarhyde. The manager giggled nervously, as the way Dolarhyde described the man he was looking for sounded like a strange admiration for him, it was as if Dolarhyde could not help but describe him as an ideal.

"Sir, I mean rather his name," the manager added, waiting for Dolarhyde to provide him with the data so he could look for it on the computer.

"Hector Dixon, he was here last Friday night, shortly before the newspaper library closed," Dolarhyde explained, doing his usual hiss as he spoke.

The man computed the name of Hector Dixon in the computer, but the system did not yield results of that day. Nevertheless it yielded results of several homonyms that also were registered like Hector Dixon, but none corresponded to the blond British of middle age that Dolarhyde looked for.

"none of these men? are you sure?" Inquired the manager as the computer screen continued to show the photograph of three men also called Hector Dixon. One of them looked too young, and he was red-haired, another was a rather old man with dark hair, probably dyed, and the third was a gray-haired old man who was quite old.

Dolarhyde shook his head and clenched his fist. He was disappointed. None of those called Hector Dixon was his.

"No, none of them is..." muttered Dolarhyde seriously.

"Sorry, that's all I can do for you. Maybe that man you're looking for is not registered here, especially if he's British as you mentioned" said the manager.

"In the damn security cameras! Surely I could see him there," exclaimed Dolarhyde.

"I'm sorry, sir, we're not allowed to show that to ordinary civilians. Only the police can have access in necessary cases," the man explained.

Dolarhyde frowned again.

"I beg you, please!" Snapped Dolarhyde, in a more abrupt, grave and imposing voice. The man was frightened again, and just behind him appeared a guard and Dolarhyde knew that he must calm down a bit.

"It is not possible sir, and please be better off. We do not tolerate aggressive behavior in this place," said the manager.

Dolarhyde hesitated a little but did not insist again and without saying more left the place, with composure but much more annoying than he had been leaving the luxurious hotel.

Outside, he wondered again if he could find Dixon, his other half, in that big, busy city.

"Maybe he's already gone to England," he thought to himself in frustration.

….

It had been almost a week since Dolarhyde had returned to find Dixon in Boston. Dolarhyde still wanted to find Dixon, desperately wanted it, but now he could not stay in Boston too long. Every day he regretted having moved so far, but he did not mind driving his van every third day from New Jersey. Sometimes he had decided to spend some nights at some cheap hotel in the city. But he knew that he could not squander his money too much, because his savings would not last forever and he still could not get a job since he was a fugitive from the police.

So on more than one occasion he had even decided to spend the night asleep inside his van.

During the course of those days, Dolarhyde made an exhaustive search to find Dixon, but was still unsuccessful. He could not find a single clue. He also began to believe that perhaps it could be that even Dixon had just been a dream, one too wonderful. But remembering their bare skins united in intense sex could not have been just a dream.

In addition, he constantly dreamed about Dixon. Almost every night, from that time on, he dreamed that he would make him his own again or that he shared with him moments when he enjoyed doing some of his favorite activities, such as seeing those old home movies and worshiping his great bible, reading together The revelations, something he had never done before with anyone.

And while he was awake fantasizing, he also masturbated, thinking of Hector Dixon.

However, in these last days this search had taken away the time and dedication to carry out to him his accustomed rituals in front of the great bible, that demanded to him the malice of his deliriums. Dixon had him obsessed, hogging all his mental concentration. All this time he had not stopped to consider that the cursed Red Dragon sleeping inside his stomach had not bothered him, his mind was too busy finding the golden-haired man like the Sun.

That was why Dolarhyde did not give up, he could not do it. He would find Dixon anywhere and at all costs.

…..

At the Chesapeake hospital in Virginia, agent Will Graham was finally released after spending more than a couple of weeks in hospital recovering from his various injuries. He was still very sore and crippled, and he felt too weak to move on just too much, but at least he could be out of bed and go home to finish recovering there. His jaw still ached a little but he was able to talk, though not for too long.

The hospital had been extremely boring, despite the fact that most of the time he had been asleep because of medicines. He was very excited to be able to return to his house, but above all to see his beloved dogs again. But he also had a great fear that Dolarhyde might stalk him to finish the purpose he had not been able to conclude on that occasion. Graham feared that Dolarhyde could find him at any moment and murder him.

That morning, Crawford made the last visit to Will's room, to assist him a bit and help him out of the hospital. Crawford never mentioned to Will anything about the note that Hannibal had dared to send him among the flowers days ago. And Hannibal had not sent anything back to Will, he was too sneaky to let Crawford and his agents track him, the letter had been just a wink on his part to let them know he was better than the whole FBI together. Hannibal was not stupid to believe that Will had received his letter, he knew that Crawford would see to it that he never received it and that Crawford would wait for him to send a second to use it as hook. That was why Hannibal did not do it again.

"Thank you so much for your help, Jack," Will said to his superior as Crawford reached for crutches and the nurse finished helping him put on a coat. It was cold outside, it was fall.

"It's the least I can do, Will," Crawford said, smiling briefly.

"I'll walk you home, do not worry, we put some alarms in there that will automatically trigger any strange movement, but I still think it would be best if you moved out," Crawford explained, "anyway, if Dolarhyde comes back to your home, I do not think he's so stupid to not know that the FBI is taking care of you," he added as he walked next to Will who was doing it with clumsy step because of the crutches.

Will had no serious injuries that would prevent him from walking, but the bruise on his side hurt a great deal if he did not lean on something strong as he walked.

"Jack, you know I can't move so immediately, I need to find a good place where they will accept me and my dogs first," Will said, and smiled a little, but soberly. Crawford noticed that it was the first time Graham had smiled for many days. Crawford also smiled succinctly.

"About that, I have some suggestions for you. I knew that was the reason you would say, because those dogs are your priority, that's why I went to the task of finding several places for you. But it would be nice if you see them personally. I can accompany you from tomorrow if you wish. Meantime today take your time to rest well at home and be with your dogs. Do not worry, we have been taking good care of them. Besides, your house has been well monitored by the police and It's okay," Crawford said.

"Haha, I suppose... because if there were news you would have told me or the news would have caught the note of the capture of that murderous bastard Red Dragon" Graham said a little laughable, could not laugh too much, his side hurt like hell.

"That's true, we still have no clue of the damn asshole..." Crawford said seriously. The truth was he was frustrated at not being able to advance the investigation.

"What about DNA test results?" inquired Will. At that moment the elevator was reaching the first level, soon they would be outside the building and from there they would go to the parking lot.

Crawford paused before answering and his expression became even more serious.

"DNA tests, which were very scarce, do not serve us. The hairs have no root and indeed several belong to some of his victims. There are no traces of his semen anywhere, even though they all were raped post mortem. The asshole was probably clever enough to divert our attention and cheat us," Crawford said. Will also became more serious. The nurse helped him out of the building, and after saying goodbye to them, Crawford and Graham headed for the vehicle that would take them.

"And...are there clues to...?" began Will by inquiring, hesitantly and averting his gaze nervously.

"No, Hannibal has not given us a single clue to his location..." Crawford replied. They were already inside the vehicle. They went out onto the avenue, and for a long while there was no conversation between them.

….

Dixon continued to handle his own business affairs in London. Besides being a hit man he had several dirty businesses on the black market. Be in the mafia always demanded to be involved every time in darker matters. Something unavoidable, which made him amass his illicit fortune even more.

Throughout the United Kingdom a great scandal had taken place over the death of the official killed by Dixon. Police had suspicions of a mafia organized in the United States and involved with the deceased, and there was talk of looking for British suspects who could settle in the United States. For that reason Dixon still could not return to Boston.

But he was still eager to return to meet the Boston's dark-haired Adonis. The private detective, a fifty-year-old man with brown hair and green eyes named Milton Wells, whom Dixon had hired to locate Dolarhyde, had failed to provide him with a single clue to John Bateman's whereabouts. As in the case of Dolarhyde when asking the librarian, the private detective had located different homonyms called equal to John Bateman, but none corresponded to the physical characteristics that Dixon had given to him. Hector Dixon was getting more desperate. And he had no further information on him.

"He had an Irish accent, but I'm not sure if he was. I'm sure he was American, something tells me," Dixon told the private detective during a video call via the internet.

"Maybe he could be an immigrant," the detective suggested.

"He was a big man, his body was very athletic, maybe he could be at some sports center or some of the gyms, look for him in that kind of places too" Dixon suggested.

"In the Boston Herald newspaper library there are only three records with his name on the ballot paper as a general public, but he's not registered in the system. Seems that he usually orders journals and magazines for consultation only using his identification card and do not have home loan, so that there is no record of his address."

"Wait... I think it would be best to wait for him there. If he's a regular user he'll be back there soon anytime," Dixon said. He felt greatly hopeful.

"That's what I've been doing. I asked a librarian to let me know if that man John Bateman comes in. I offered him a large sum of money, but so far he does not seem to have asked for more magazines or newspapers."

"Intensify the search, Wells, please. I'll pay you more, double if you can find him the moment he comes back."

….

As soon as Will Graham was at home and having happily attended to his beloved dogs whom he had not seen in those days, he paused for a moment to rest on a comfortable couch to watch television.

He was still overwhelmed because he still had not overcome his fear of the escape situation that the violent confrontation with the Red Dragon had caused him. He felt very paranoid to think that Dolarhyde could enter his house and surprise him at any moment, especially since the damned was still free in the streets and the police had not a single clue. He felt too insecure in his own house, which on the contrary was supposed should give him comfort. He felt insecure even if surveillance cameras had been set up that the FBI was monitoring 24 hours a day. But that also worried him too much, because he felt like an animal in captivity, or a rat in a laboratory, because now he could not have privacy, the FBI had become much more stalker than Dolarhyde himself.

But he knew he had to bear it, but it was nothing compared to the anguish that had made him feel abandoned by Hannibal and not knowing anything about him because of course Crawford had not sent him the letter that Hannibal had sent him between the flowers and of course was that Will had not even realized.

He was really tired of the whole situation, he felt truly alone even though he had the presence of his canine friends at his side, although he had always preferred the company of his pets to human company. Perhaps it was simply that he could not get over the fact that his secret love affair with the murderous doctor had been frustrated and that he now had to be in the company of Dr. Bedelia, whom he had chosen over him.

The time passed, the afternoon culminated and outside it was almost dark. While Will continued to watch the television, and while he changed some channels with the remote control, he began to think and remember where the blind spots of the surveillance cameras were. His mind could not help brooding the idea that if Hannibal for some reason visited his house, he would have to do so by trying to go through those blind spots not to be seen. But he knew that was just an absurd fantasy and none of that would happen. They were things that would only happen in movies or in a novel. It was not as if Hannibal would suddenly appear sitting in some corner of his house, having entered unannounced and surely forcing the lock, and salute him without the police knowing.

But even though it was a fantasy, Will really wanted it to be.

Hannibal did not appear that way inside his house, but as if Graham had predicted it in a moment of the night, a note arrived under his door after a pair of knocks on the same one.

Will had a strange hunch. The knocks on the door were not heard again, only the wind that outside moved the leaves of the trees and the barking of the dogs after seeing the stranger, but surely should not be too unknown because the dogs did not bark more insistently or aggressiveness. Graham saw the note under his door, and hurried as hard as he could to open it, but when he did, he could not find anyone nearby. He had delayed opening the door more than a normal person would have done, for he was still wounded, and that would hinder his movements. After not seeing anyone outside he hurried to read the note. Before reading, something told him to do it in one of the blind spots of the house. He headed for a corner of the living room, under the stairs, and there began to read the note. He recognized the excellent calligraphy immediately and before reading the main content his eyes could not help but notice with emotion the signature that was unavoidable to recognize: Hannibal

His eyes lit up with internal fury and he read quickly.

 _My very dear Will, I am very glad that you have been discharged at last. You do not know how I've been longing for the moment when we can finally meet again. I'll wait for you outside the cafe 'Cafe Paraíso', just behind the mall._

 _You can recognize me because I have a carnation in the pocket of my shirt, which is light green._

 _-Hannibal-_

Doubtless, Will Graham subtly kissed the note and put it in his pocket. He was too excited. That note belonged to him, to Doctor Lecter, and there was no doubt that he had given it to him under the door. He knew that Hannibal was clever enough to go unnoticed by anyone, because he had always mocked the FBI even in front of them. Graham was not afraid of anything; he could rely entirely on Hannibal. Anyway nothing else mattered to him at that moment than to be with him, so he immediately hurried out. He took a jacket and left the house. He asked for a taxi in the avenue and in just a few minutes he was arriving at the place mentioned.

Graham paid the taxi driver for the ride and hurried down as much as he could, even though he had to lean on his crutches because of his bruised wounds in his torso. As he stood on the sidewalk, he looked impatiently for Hannibal's presence. He knew that he would not show his face so easily, being currently one of the most wanted serial killers in the country. But he knew he would recognize him immediately.

And as Will continued to look around, Hannibal suddenly appeared behind him and spoke to him closely.

"Will..." Dr. Lecter greeted softly, touching the shoulder of the agent who seemed intentional as a caress.

Graham immediately turned, finally was enjoying his presence one more time. Hannibal was in front of him again, a beard-framed smile, unusual in him, and he noticed that indeed Hannibal wore a green, casual shirt and a carnation in his pocket. He was also wearing jeans, Graham did not remember seeing him before wearing jeans, but they really made him look great. Also Hannibal wore dark glasses and the hairstyle in his hair was quite different.

"Hannibal..." Will said quietly and very softly, almost inaudibly; never ceasing to look up at him. He really wanted to be much more effusive with him, he really wanted to pounce on him and kiss him but he knew perfectly well that he could not do it, not then; he knew he had to resist it until they found an intimate and suitable place.

"Come on, Will... come on up," Hannibal said in a calm, elegant voice, gently touching his shoulder, inviting him into the black vehicle behind him on the curb.

Will was even more excited to have that physical touch on his part, that touch on his shoulder had been a fine caress, had been able to feel Hannibal's intention, Will knew his body language well. Will nodded and obeyed his request. He got into the car, with a little difficulty because of his injuries, but that did not detract from his happiness at any time.

Will slid to the seat across the window to allow Hannibal to sit beside him as he got into the car. Both inside, Hannibal closed the car door and signaled the driver to take them to a certain spot. Will Graham felt quite anxious. And suddenly Hannibal took his face in his hands gently and began to kiss him.

Will agreed and let himself be kissed by the doctor. The kiss was soft and not too long, even though they had longed for it for so long, but the moment demanded caution added to the fact that they could not avoid the tension that had caused them to part. Yet neither could deny that they were both happy.

"Where are we going, Hannibal?" Will asked after that kiss.

"You'll see..." Hannibal mumbled elegantly. For Will it was a little laughable to realize that Hannibal could never lose his refined behavior despite being dressed in too casual clothes.

They did not talk too much in the car, they also arrived very soon to the place indicated by Hannibal and that way they went up to a terrace where they perfectly appreciated an excellent panoramic view of the city.

And as they sat on a bench on the terrace, Hannibal and Will began to tell a little about what had happened in the later days when Hannibal had fled with Bedelia, but Will had no intention of claiming anything in no time, that night just wanted to feel happy at his side. They also talked briefly about what had happened to Dolarhyde that night. But the conservation was not prolonged too much because Hannibal was impatient to make a proposal, which above all could not postpone.

"Will, you know that I cannot stay here for too long. Come and live with me...in Florence. We will take this morning the private jet that will take us there. You can bring everything you need, including your pets, of course. Please say yes now, we cannot wait any longer," said the doctor at last.

Graham was momentarily astonished to hear him say such a request, but he did not take too long to accept his proposition. With Hannibal he was never afraid of anything, Hannibal always gave back all the confidence and for him it could go until the end of the world. It did not matter to leave everything behind.

"Okay..." Will replied, succinctly but enthusiastically, Hannibal was able to fully realize it and kissed him again.

"We will begin a new wonderful life together, Will." Hannibal spoke seductively, then took Will's hands in his and carefully lifted them to his face to kiss his knuckles. "I will be able to please you with what you wish when we get in Florence."

Hours later, long before dawn, they were both flying towards their new life together in Italy.

….

Dolarhyde returned that morning to look for Hector Dixon in the Boston Herald. A little more than a month had passed since that night they had met, and his desperation to find him still persisted. Not so much in the same way his physical energies. Despite being a strong man all this felt increasingly tedious. He had also had to move again. Moving was something he needed, but it did not cost too much effort because having burned down his own house now he did not have too many things. But surely his great bible and his projectors always required to have a special space, only for that reason he was never encouraged to only rent a room.

He continued to feed his addiction to hear the news of horrible crimes in the newspapers, but he had stopped requesting the newspapers in the newspaper library, since the newspapers he needed himself bought them and after taking some cuts he wanted, he threw them.

Without knowing it, the detective that Dixon had hired at that moment was also arriving at the newspaper archive. Since it was a custom since he had been hired by Dixon, he came directly to ask the manager if he had heard of the alleged John Bateman. But he could not give him that information again.

"I'm sorry, sir, but that Mr John Bateman has not really come in here. Even seeing it on security cameras we cannot recognize him if you do not give me any more information about him, I mean something else than only that characteristic, the scar on his upper lip," she said.

What nobody knew was that because the FBI was looking for Dolarhyde intensely based mostly on his scar by the cleft lip, Dolarhyde had started to make up the scar with a latex plaster every time he had to leave the house. With that disadvantage it would be much more difficult to locate him. Dolarhyde had also decided to wear brown contact lenses to darken his natural blue eyes and most of the time he wore a cap.

"But sir, I must tell you something that may interest you..." said the clerk, who was quite young and Detective Wells listened attentively.

"Please speak," he said.

"My companions have told me that since a few days ago a man has also been asking insistently for the name of... ah, wait a moment please, I have it written right here" said the lady and hurried to reach a personal notebook where she wrote down, the the detective waited impatiently, "Hector Dixon, by that name has been asking," said the woman.

The detective was shocked by the information the young archivist had given him. His expression betrayed his complete surprise, the girl was dubiously nervous but soon Detective Wells resumed his professional seriousness and took the little note with the name of Hector Dixon that the lady had just giving him.

"Oh, I'm sure it's the man I'm looking for. There cannot be too much coincidence," said the detective, looking at the note with a smile.

"Mmh maybe, although the man who came to ask for that name does not have a scar on his lip and does not have blue eyes. That's what I realized myself... that is, at that moment I took care of him and looked at him to the eyes, they were brown, but it was not me who he asked for Hector Dixon, he asked my companion. I was curious, so I asked my companion and he told me that guy has been coming to ask for that Hector Dixon constantly for weeks" she finished saying.

The detective was intrigued by what the girl had said. But he could not shake the thought of not following the man who had asked for Dixon.

"Does that man always come back at the same time?" The detective asked.

"Usually does, and every third day as my colleagues said," said the manager.

"When was the last time that man was here?" The detective asked.

"Just this afternoon, just over an hour ago," she said.

"What is the name of that man?" The detective asked again.

"He has not given us his name, he has never registered in the system and he does not show his identification here because he has not requested copies of the newspapers for home loan. He only shows his identification to the security personnel who is in charge of allowing entry. "

At that moment the man began to write a note and discreetly gave it to read to the young woman. She read it in silence.

The note read "I offer you a good sum of money if you allow me to capture that man of the videos of the security cameras"

The girl felt nervous again and looked up at him again.

"Tonight, when the newspaper library stops serving, sir," she said quietly and circumspectly.

As she had indicated, Detective Wells was there when the newspaper library was about to close. She had managed, with the help of a companion and friend of the newspaper library, to get for him captures made with her cell phone directly from the security cameras that day

Outside the building the detective waited for her and the girl passed him the videos she had captured.

That same night the detective would send the videos of the mysterious man to Dixon, his boss in turn who had hired him, while in England it was very early in the morning and Hector Dixon slept soundly, naked after having a hectic night of sex with his lover Peter Guillam .

At dawn, when was checking his computer with anxiety, Hector noticed that the detective had left a message where he put "I have news!"

Dixon eagerly opened the message and immediately noticed that the file also contained a video to play.

Dixon enthusiastically played the video. It was him, Francis Dolarhyde appeared in the video. Dixon, who really knew him, could not be wrong.

….

Hector's eyes widened with admiration. He felt immediately full of fervor. At last after all this time he had managed to get a clue to his alpha Adonis. He would definitely be his again. He played the video again and again; he was excited to imagine that manly man would penetrate him again with the same savagery very soon.

At that point, Dixon really felt exasperated by asking the detective a thousand questions about the location of Dolarhyde but it could not be possible. The detective was not online at the moment. Very possibly at that hour he was sleeping. Dixon cursed the time difference. He had no choice but had to wait a little longer.

"What are you looking at, Hec? New businesses?" inquired Guillam with a seductive voice, approaching him with stealth. Dixon was immediately exasperated to hear his voice speak behind him, because he had interrupted. Guillam was half naked, dressed only in his boxer. Dixon was naked under the purple silk robe he wore. Dixon barely turned to see Guillam, but Guillam continued to approach his murderous lover.

"Yes, something like this... I have some business to settle," Dixon replied, noting his annoyance a little. Guillam smiled in a satire.

"It does not seem to rejoice you this new work, Hec... you no longer enjoy to run the blood of the people that you kill?" said Guillam sarcastically.

Dixon turned to look at him and smirked briefly.

"Are you stupid? I could never stop enjoying it... And indeed this new job made me very excited, to tell you the truth," Dixon said tartly.

"Well I notice your annoyance, honey..." said Guillam trying to provoke him and took his chin with one hand and abruptly with the intention of stealing a rapturous kiss.

"What makes me annoys is you..." Dixon answered acidly.

Guillam laughed a little. Dixon got up from his seat, not without first closing the screen of his laptop and trying to ignore Guillam headed for the bathroom. On the way, Dixon stripped off his robe and exposed his nakedness. Guillam admired seeing his bare butt and back in front of him, and Dixon continued on his way to the shower, not closing the door. He began to let the warm water from the shower over his naked body and suddenly he could feel Guillam's invasive hands caressing his wet body. Guillam had stripped naked to get him into the shower.

"Hector...I cannot believe that despite all these sex-filled moments that we've enjoyed since our reconciliation you're still so annoying and elusive with me," Guillam muttered provocative behind his ear, still caressing Dixon's body sensually with his reckless hands, And began to nibble on one of his shoulders.

"We never had reconciliation, you bastard..." Dixon said harshly, then giggled as he lathered. And at his answer, Guillam began to squeeze Dixon's limb in his hand, and then began pulling him up to masturbate him.

"Hector... you always make me irritate... you cannot deny that we have had a very good reconciliation," said Guillam hoarsely, continued to stimulate the member of his hitman lover, he wanted to put it hard as he was already was.

"No, we only have sex... you only serve me for that, as long as I do not find another imbecile to play as a toy..." Dixon muttered mockingly, his voice was ecstatic gradually to feel the stimulation that his lover in turn was provoking him.

Guillam laughed again with irony and his form of masturbation became more searching, which caused Dixon to grumble and start moaning.

"Ahh..." Dixon moaned.

"And you always show how much you enjoy having this toy inside you," Guillam said close to his ear and tugged harder at Dixon's cock.

"Damn bastard..." Hector moaned with greater strength and at that moment Guillam shoved Dixon's blond head against the wall, making him tilt his butt further towards him and then Dixon could not help but shout a little as he felt Guillam penetrating him through complete with a single thrust, making its way to the bottom, with no more lubrication than the liquid soap at his side.

"Ahhh, you son of a bitch!" Dixon snapped as he felt Guillam begin to attack savage inside him, right there under the water of the shower, not allowing him to get accustomed to the invasion and while he was still keeping Dixon's body colliding against the wall. And as he lashed out aggressively into him, Guillam continued to masturbate him roughly and continuously stroked Dixon's nipples, now hardened by the great excitement.

After a good time of rough sex under the shower, their bodies came together to the climax of pleasure. When the orgasm of both spilled, it was diluted instantly with water.

When the morning sex dose ended, there was no kiss between them. As soon as Dixon could turn to see Guillam he spat in his face in anger, but Guillam immediately washed with the shower water. Dixon did not get a chance to strike him with a fury.

"You fucking bastard!" snapped Dixon after spitting. Guillam laughed funny and malicious from the bathroom door. Dixon's brow furrowed and a wry smirked sketched on his face. He was exasperated, his entrance hurt from the violent penetration and abrupt onslaughts, and seeing the mocking expression of Guillam exasperated him even more.

"Admit it, that's why you love this toy fuck you, Hec! At any time of day!" Guillam kept mocking him.

Hector looked at him for a moment again, had managed to catch up with him, and then lashed out at the member of Guillam who had just penetrated him, and squeezed him tightly in his hand which made Guillam wince with pleasurable pain.

"Ahhh, Hec..." Guillam managed to say before Dixon decided to squeeze his member more rudely.

"Your cock is mine..." Dixon warned threateningly to do him more harm but Guillam, who was taller and stronger, did not give him a chance and grabbed Dixon by the neck to force him back into the wall, releasing his manhood.

"Hec... you really are a damn bitch! You love provoking me to fuck you over and over, you do not have enough satiety... you do not have satiety..." Guillam snapped as he continued to hold Dixon against the wall, little of the floor, clenching his neck tightly with the intention of suffocating him. Dixon could not speak or get rid of him, but his expression did not cease his anger. Dixon was waiting for Guillam to fulfill his threat, he already imagined himself being savagely penetrated by him again under the showerhead, but suddenly Guillam stopped and let him go.

As Dixon touched his own neck trying to appease the damage that Guillam had done to him, Guillam wrapped a towel around his waist and started to leave the bathroom.

"I'm sorry you cannot have more of my cock for today, honey, but I must hurry to take care of some business," Guillam began, wryly "but I'm not worried, I'm totally sure you'll be able to get something or someone to fuck you in my absence."

"I can get into anything and it will always be better than your damn tiny, flaccid cock," Dixon replied with a smirk.

Guillam wanted to go back to him to teach him some lessons but he did not, he really was in a hurry to get out.

"You know you cannot, even if you boast about it, otherwise you would not have me fucking you every day, sweetheart," said Guillam, finishing dressing in front of Dixon, who was half naked looking at him from the door frame, but exposing before him the nakedness of his torso and his member.

Dixon hesitated a moment before answering, what Guillam had just said was true. Even he could not explain why if Guillam really annoyed him in the last days he simply could not let him go, nor did he want to do so. He tried to think that it was all a matter of time, and that when he could bring in the dark-haired man of Boston, he would not hesitate to get rid of Guillam. In the meantime, Guillam kept being his fiery lover.

At that moment Dixon took his weapon and pointed at Guillam who had finished dressing and was heading for the door.

"Do not go back Pete, I do not want to see you in a few damn days until I stop feeling annoyed. Dixon said as he continued to aim at him, Guillam had turned around to look at him and smirked at him as he turned the knob on the front door.

"I'll see you tomorrow, my love," Guillam said with mock sarcasm, and out the door, Guillam knew Dixon did not really mean it, because his relationship had become overly addictive and he could not resist when he returned to visit him to his penthouse the following night. Dixon was exasperated after having heard him call it that, he had never really endured anyone calling him my love, not even Guillam.

Dixon paused, clenched his fists tightly closed. He did not try to reach Guillam, he had no real purpose to do so despite the fact that he had annoyed him, and above all he was naked only wearing that robe that was still open.

He suddenly remembered that he had been waiting for some new message from Detective Wells from Boston or that he were online, and so without bothering to get dressed he hurried to his computer.

As soon as he was in front of the laptop, the expression on his face was filled with emotion when he saw that the detective was online and had just left a message for him. Dixon hurried to respond immediately and then the detective appeared on the screen.

"Dixon..." the detective greeted cordially, noting that Dixon's hair was wet from the recent shower.

"So you finally found him!" Dixon said with a wide smile that showed his perfect white teeth.

"Did you see the videos I sent you? They're from the Boston Herald security cameras," the detective explained.

"Of course! It's him! I'm completely sure! I'd never forget his face," Dixon said with a determined voice and great emotion in his eyes.

"The archivists say the man has been asking about you, Hector Dixon, for weeks," the detective said. Dixon's gaze brightened brighter as he heard him say that.

"And how come you did not hear about it before? You gotta contact him already, did not you?! Please, if he's looking for me himself, it cannot be so damn difficult!" said the blond in a loud and imposing voice, he was too impatient.

"The man has not presented himself to request copies of the newspapers, so there is no record of him, there are only three papers before the date that you indicated to me, where he was registered kike John Bateman, but he did not write his address because he only consulted the newspapers, and well, just yesterday by coincidence, one of the managers told me that. She told me that the guy asks insistently for you. Until now I haven't met him personally, besides seems he does not have the main features that you indicated to me. His eyes are brown and not blue and he does not have that scar upper the lip. But now that you have just confirmed that he is about him, tomorrow I will be aware of the presence of the man" said the detective.

"His eyes are brown? Are you sure? And why would he hide his scar? It all seems very strange..." said Dixon confused.

"Are you sure it's about him?" the detective asked.

"I told you that yes, it's him. I cannot be wrong. It's probably he's trying to hide something, but if he's been looking for me, it cannot be anyone else," said Dixon in awe. At that moment Dixon was overjoyed to have said his real name to the Boston dark-haired male, because if would have given him a false name, as he always did, this coincidence would not have happened and perhaps they would not have this clue to find him.

"If he's looking for me with that insistence surely he wants to repeat our delicious, intense sex..." Dixon thought to himself as he could not help but feel himself gradually aroused, which disturbed his member that was trapped in his crotch while his legs were crossed, and naked. He began to caress and stimulate himself under the table, he was naked only wearing that thin robe, but from the other side of the monitor the detective could not see.

"Dixon, tell me what you want me to do exactly when I am able talk to him," the detective said.

"Tell him that you go from my part, show him a picture of me and tell him that I'm looking for him too. Offer him a large sum of money if it's necessary. Show him a video message that I'm going to send you right now and tell him to wait for me, I'll flight by private jet to New York and then I'll be in Boston soon, without wasting any more time. You'll still be our mediator while he indicates an exact meeting point to reunite us again," Dixon said decisively, was getting much more excited, his cock had been erected lower under his restless hands and he began to pull it while his legs continued to cross.

"Okay, I'll keep you posted on everything that happens and what I say," said the detective. And as he had said, Dixon recorded a special video message for him, showing the same way he was at that moment, showing his bare chest and blond hair wet from the shower, while under the table was given pleasure to himself to calm his fever.

 _"Hey, sexy dark-haired, Johnny, I look forward to see you again. Please get in contact with me. My hot body is missing too much feeling possessed by yours. I need to feel you inside me, soon, I can't wait anymore,"_

The voice Dixon had used sounded most sexy and provocative. And the fact of being naked, wearing only his silk robe and with damp hair, was quite timely, that made the message even more suggestive. In addition, Dixon was not ashamed to make a message as sensual and concrete as that to another man and send it through the detective. Anyway, the detective knew perfectly well that Dixon's intention, even if he had not clearly told it, was to find that dark-haired man of Boston to make him his lover.

….

 **Author's Note:** At last after more than a year I was able to update! XD I hope you liked it ;D

BTW as always I apologize if I made mistakes! x(

I am very sorry for the delay but things have gotten very complicated in recent months. However I would never give up my fics and less because Richartin is present in my life every day of the year! :3 plus I already set out to compensate my fics!

I have the next chapter ready so I will upload it these days.


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